Dead Promises
by Nona Decima Morta
Summary: While a youth, he was promised to an English noblewoman. Swearing to his wedding vows with Catherine of Aragon, he promised to be a faithful husband. Vowing to Catherine, he promised to love their children until his death. This was before a ghost of his past returns to extract a favourable revenge. Will those promises turn out to be dead promises?
1. Chapter I

Chapter I

**January, 1510 **

Catherine of Aragon was the happiest woman in England, when the midwife announced that she had successfully given birth to a healthy, baby girl.

If it was a girl this time, sons will follow.

She was sure of it.

Her husband, Henry VIII of England, was told the news at once. He was as delighted as she was, in their first child. He seemed a little disappointed that their first child was a daughter, and not a son, but he fully agreed with Catherine.

Sons will follow after their daughter.

"What shall we name her?" said Henry VIII, gazing at his daughter fondly.

"Do you have any suggestions?" Catherine inquired, sitting up.

"I was thinking of Elizabeth, after my mother, or maybe Margaret, after my grandmother. Or maybe we can name her Matilda, after the Conqueror's wife."

"Oh, Harry! May I choose?"

"Of course, my dear Catalina! You gave us this wonderful child!"

"Thank you!"

"Whatever you suggest, will be the name of our first daughter!"

"Can we name our first child Mary? After the Virgin Mary, who answered our prayers in giving us this beautiful daughter. We can always name our oldest son after you! If we name our first child after the Virgin, she might feel gratified and pleased at the honour, and will give us sons! We can always name her after the Virgin and your younger sister!"

Henry VIII smiled at the thought of naming his daughter after his favourite sister.

He frowned as he thought of his late brother, Arthur, the Prince of Wales.

Catherine had been betrothed to him, and was about to marry him, but he had unfortunately died a few weeks before the marriage of Typhoid Fever.

Henry VIII would always get angry at the thought of Catherine marrying Arthur.

_His_ Catherine.

"Not Arthur?" he said uncertainly. "Our first son won't be named Arthur?"

Catherine looked at him, surprised.

"Do you want him to be?" she said, puzzled.

"No," said Henry VIII quickly. "We can name our second or third son after him. I was just making sure, you know, he was my brother and all."

Catherine nodded in understanding.

"Mary?" said Catherine hopefully.

"Mary it is!" Henry VIII agreed, kissing her.

Catherine laughed, and was pleased that Henry VIII didn't make a big fuss in wanting a son and despising their first daughter.

She was also happy he was still faithful to her.

Catherine knew that a man like Henry VIII, won't remain faithful to her for long. It won't be long before the nobles would be sending their daughters to court, hoping that their daughters would be Henry VIII's mistresses, and mothers of his acknowledged, illegitimate offspring. Catherine disliked that thought, but knew it would happen someday.

"Promise me one thing," she spoke.

"Anything!" Henry VIII said at once. "Anything you ask is yours!"

"Even if you have illegitimate children, promise me that you'll always love our children, no matter whether they're sons or daughters."

"Why would you think that?!"

"Just in case, Henry. Just in case. Please promise me."

_She is older than me,_ thought Henry VIII. _Catherine must know what she's talking about._

"I promise," he told Catherine. "Let's not think of that. Let's think of the feast and celebrations we need

to plan for our daughter's christening. The whole world needs to know of it! I'm sure your parents want to know what happened!"

"They do," murmured Catherine. "How can I forget?!"

Henry VIII stood up.

He had letters to write, and celebrations to plan.

"I'll leave you in peace," he said gently. "I'm sure you want some privacy. I'll write to the Kings of France and Scotland to tell them of our good news! You don't mind if the Duke and Duchess of Suffolk help me plan the celebrations?"

Catherine smiled at the thought.

She was quite fond of her sister-in-law, Princess Mary Tudor, the former Queen of France and presently the Duchess of Suffolk.

She had a liking for Charles Brandon, the Duke of Suffolk, who welcomed her graciously to England, and promised to be her good friend.

He had kept his promise.

"I don't mind," she assured Henry VIII. "I trust the three of you."

Catherine couldn't wait to write the good news to her parents.

Once Henry VIII departed, Catherine sent for parchment, quill, ink and His Excellency, the Imperial Spanish Ambassador, Eustace Chapuys.

"Infanta," said Eustace Chapuys, bowing. "You called for me?"

To Eustace Chapuys, the Queen of England would always be known as Infanta Catalina de Castilla y Aragon, the youngest child of Their Majesties, the Catholic Monarchs, King Ferdinand II of Aragon and Queen Isabella I of Spain.

"Your Excellency," said Catherine pleasantly. "I'm glad you can come."

"I'm at your service," said Chapuys, kissing her hand. "I hope that your pregnancy went well and your baby a healthy one."

"She is well."

"Ah, my Infanta, you had borne a Princesa! Congratulations! Her name?"

"Mary. I'm sure you approve of the name choice. I named my first baby after the Holy Mother, even though my husband preferred to name our baby after one of his female relations. What do you think, my dear Chapuys? Will Their Majesties of Spain be happy at this? I know it isn't the ideal son they had hoped for, but it-"

"Nonsense, my Infanta! Your sister Infanta Juana had a daughter first as well!"

Catherine nodded thoughtfully.

Her older sister Joanna of Aragon, Heiress of Spain and Dowager Duchess of Burgundy, had been married for ten years, and had became a widow three years before. Between her and her husband, Philip, the Duke of Burgundy, they had six children.

Their youngest child, Catherine (named after Catherine of Aragon), was a year older than Catherine and Henry VIII's own little Princess Mary Tudor.

"Yes," spoke Catherine, thinking affectionately of her nieces and nephews. "Juana's first child was a daughter called Eleanor, isn't it?"

Chapuys nodded.

For the first time in many years, Catherine missed Spain, and began reminiscing about the past. Mostly about her time with her siblings.

Her oldest sister Isabella, the late Queen of Portugal and her only brother John, the late Prince of Asturias (Heir of Spain) had died many years ago. Her parents were devastated. Isabella's baby son, Miguel of Portugal, became Heir of Spain and Portugal after his mother and uncle's deaths. Unfortunately, he died two years after birth.

Now, Joanna, Catherine and their other sister Maria, are the only surviving children of their parents, and their parents only hopes of continuing the Spanish bloodline.

"I'll write to my parents," Catherine decided. "Can you please make sure the letter gets delivered quickly? I'll be expecting a reply."

"Of course," said Chapuys, taking the letter from Catherine. "I'll deliver it myself, and take the reply

straight to your hands. I won't let any boat or ship slow me down from England to Spain. Is there anything else you desire, Infanta? Is there anything you want me to take from Spain to you? Any other messages for me to deliver?"

"No. Ask your most reliable deputy to deliver the message."

"Infanta?"

"I want you here with me in England. I don't trust that snake Wolsey. He'll try and make my husband his puppet for power."

"As you wish, Infanta."

He bowed again and departed.

* * *

"Another banquet, Harry?" said Henry's sister Mary, in mock surprise. "Why it's the second banquet in a week! What will our dear father say?!"

Henry VIII laughed.

He hated being reminded of his father and his policies.

Mary can always twist an unpleasant topic into a witty, entertaining one. Henry VIII was glad she remarried in England and her first marriage with the late King of France wasn't long. He was even more pleased that she married his best friend, Charles Brandon.

"You have a daughter," said Charles in admiration.

"Not a son though," said Henry VIII, feeling a little disappointed.

"Harry! No need to be disappointed! Sons will come along! Normally Kings who have a daughter first are more loved by the people! On the streets, people are still calling you 'Bluff King Hal'! They never called your father that!"

"What about My Pearl?"

"Your pearl?"

"My daughter. What do you think the other Kings would think of her?"

"A valuable piece to form an alliance with England. Kings would send their ambassadors streaming into England! Imagine the King of France's face!"

Henry VIII laughed humorously.

He and Francis I of France would be enemies for as long as they live.

"It would mean peace though," he said thoughtfully. "My Mary can marry Francis's first son and become the future Queen of France. His first daughter can marry my first son. A double marriage can probably end all the hatred between France and England. Who knows? Maybe in a couple of decades, France and England might be unified."

Charles nodded in agreement.

He had no particular care for politics right at the moment. He was satisfied in marriage with the King's sister, and their future children will be in the Line of Succession.

To him, it'll be best for Henry VIII to discuss politics with his ministers, not him.

To Charles's relief, the three of them spent hours discussing the banquet.

"Your Majesty."

Henry VIII's most trusted advisor, Cardinal Thomas Wolsey appeared. Charles had nothing against him, but disliked him for no particular reason.

"Thomas!" said Henry VIII, jumping up from the ground.

"Your Majesty," Wolsey said again. "Your Grace."

He nodded curtly at Charles.

Just as much as Charles disliked Wolsey, Wolsey disliked him.

"Your Highness," said Wolsey, kissing Mary's hand.

"Cardinal," said Mary, her tone full of false sweetness. "I suppose you wish to talk to my dear brother privately? My husband and I will leave."

"That would be for the best of things, Your Highness."

Mary smiled at Henry VIII and pulled Charles away to the gardens. Mary knew that nothing would end well in a conversation between the Cardinal and her husband. Both of them are close friends/advisors to her brother, but none of them are willing to be allies for the good of the kingdom. Wolsey would be grateful to her for this.

They met Catherine in the gardens.

"Your Majesty," said Mary, sinking to a curtsey.

Charles bowed.

"Oh please no!" laughed Catherine. "Not with all those formalities! We're family! Even you, Charles, no need to curtsey and bow! Mary, my baby's named after you and the Virgin Goddess. You're my sister-in-law, and Charles, you're a person I can trust."

Happiness flowed in Charles's heart.

Being trusted by the King is one thing, but by the Queen too?!

"What can we do for you?" said Charles pleasantly.

"I was just walking around the gardens," explained Catherine.

"I hope your pregnancy went well?"

"It did. I'm sure you have heard that I have given birth to a Princess. Have you seen my husband? I'm sure you have finished planning the banquet."

"Ah, I think he prefers to be alone."

"Why?"

"Wolsey's with him."

Catherine was silent.

If she ever wanted to launch a war against Wolsey, Charles and Mary would be her staunch allies, despite the fact that Wolsey helped save Charles and Mary's lives when their secret marriage was revealed, and many ministers wanted Charles executed or imprisoned. Catherine was certain that she'll earn herself more allies once Wolsey becomes more pompous in his position as the King's closest advisor and abusing the use of the power of Cardinal.

"Do you think they're arranging a marriage?" murmured Catherine.

"For?" inquired Mary.

"My daughter. Do you think they're already creating one?"

"Well, the King and the Cardinal arrange matches for nobles as well! It's hard to say what they're up to right now, but-"

"Mary. You and I both know that betrothals are mostly arranged when royal Princes and Princesses are only in their cradles."

"Yes, but most of them don't actually happen."

"Like yours with my nephew, Archduke Charles of Austria, the Duke of Burgundy."

"I married the old King of France instead."

"Which probably wasn't worth it. I guess you're right. I was betrothed to your late brother Arthur when I was two, but I never ended up marrying him. I married Henry instead. Then again, I fulfilled my destiny in becoming the Queen of England."

Charles shifted uncomfortably.

He loved his wife and respected Catherine, but he hated moments like this.

He wanted to think himself equal in his marriage, but hated when Mary and Catherine discuss matters which he doesn't understand well.

Mary noticed him shifting uncomfortably.

"We'd better go," she told Catherine. "If it is a marriage Wolsey and Henry are planning, Henry will tell you tonight or sometime private."

"Of course," said Catherine, who was deep in thought.

Mary took hold of Charles's hand and dragged him away.

"We have a problem," Mary muttered softly. "I don't know if Catherine should be told of this, but I can bet you ten florins that she won't know."

"Know what?" hissed Charles.

"Henry's past! When Arthur was alive! Catherine came to England to marry Henry! My father didn't want to break the Spanish Alliance!"

"I'm sorry, but I still don't understand what you're saying."

"Think, Charles! Think! My father changed his mind of sending Henry to church! Remember? He was supposed to be Archbishop of Canterbury!"

"Oh God. You sure?"

"I saw them when we were talking to Catherine."

"What can they do? They can't declare a divorce on the grounds of infertility. Catherine had already proved herself in giving birth to Princess Mary. They can't declare a divorce on the grounds of infidelity, because Catherine is never unfaithful! They can try and declare the marriage unfit in any way possible, but it won't work!"

"How about on the grounds of pre-contract?"

"Arthur died."

"On Henry's side."

"Henry won't let his daughter be bastardised and become sonless and childless just to marry that black-eyed vixen who's up to no good!"

"What if he finds her attractive?"

"Mary! Don't worry! The last time he saw her was when he's, I don't know! Fourteen?"

Mary sighed.

Charles patted her hand.

"She'll be fine," he promised. "Catherine will always be Henry's Queen."

* * *

That night, Henry VIII visited Catherine in her chambers.

"Hello Henry," said Catherine pleasantly. "I didn't expect you here tonight. I thought you would be with your ministers or friends."

"Ah," said Henry VIII uncomfortably. "We need to talk."

"About?"

"Our daughter, Mary."

"Have you finished planning the banquet? I was hoping we can hold the christening and banquet tomorrow. It's better to christen our baby earlier rather than late. I've decided that the Countess of Salisbury should be one of Mary's godparents. Have you decided on the other one? Are you alright? Do you need a cup of ale?"

"It's not to do with her christening."

"Oh?"

"It's about Mary's…betrothal."

"Did you say betrothal?"

"Oh, come now, Catherine! You know as well as I do that our children are important in politics! You married me for the good of Spain and England!"

"Who?"

"Excuse me?"

"Who's Mary betrothed to?"

"It hadn't been formally decided, but Wolsey and I thought it was a good marriage alliance. We thought of an alliance with France, and decided it's a good idea for Mary to marry Charles de Bourbon, the Duke of Vendome. He's a cousin to Francis I and part of the Line of Succession."

"I never heard of this _de Bourbon_ before."

"His father is a close advisor of Francis I and the previous King of France."

"How old is he?"

"About ten years, Mary's senior."

"Ten! Henry, why not have a renewed alliance with Scotland? Mary would be happier marrying Margaret's son, James, the Duke of Rothesay!"

"Why? France is England's worst enemy!"

"Scotland and France had always been allies against England! Why not our son marry a French Princess and Mary marry into the Scottish Royal Family? Think about it, Henry. We can keep our family close and political. We can form other alliances via our future children. Who suggested it, Henry? Wolsey or you? I think I know that Wolsey thought of this, not you. He knows you'll fund his expedition to France to tell the King of France about the possible betrothal!"

"Catherine! That's not all!"

"That's not all?!"

"The French ambassador had hinted that if Mary marries the Duke of Vendome, Francis I will cede Champagne, Blois _and_ Bordeaux to us!"

"You can't believe the French ambassador."

"Think about-"

"There's nothing for me to think about. You and Wolsey will go ahead with it."

Henry VIII said nothing.

"Please support this idea!" he pleaded. "Why won't you support me?! You supported all my ideas before this! Mary won't have to leave England straight away! She can leave when she's fifteen or sixteen like you did! The Duke of Vendome will be a good husband! The French ambassador assured me that if Mary marries him, they'll be welcomed in the French Court and Mary will have the precedence over every woman in France except the Queen and the Enfantes de France!"

"Alright," relented Catherine. "But promise me you won't declare war against Spain and one of our children will marry a Spanish Infante."

Henry VIII kissed Catherine.

He was happy.

Wolsey had challenged him to ask Catherine for her support, and if he receives it, Wolsey will hand his palace, Hampton Court, to Henry VIII.

Henry VIII smiled at Catherine and left.

On his way out, he glanced at Catherine's ladies-in-waiting and the thought of having an affair with one of them occurred to him.

_They're all so pretty,_ thought Henry VIII. _Will I be unfaithful to Catherine?_

* * *

**Just to let you know, this is a rewritten chapter of the previous _A Twist In Time: Ghosts of His Past_. Please review and let me know if you want me to continue! :) **


	2. Chapter II

Chapter II

**March, 1510**

Maria de Salinas, felt it was her responsibility to inform Catherine of what was happening. She knew it'll hurt Catherine, but knew it was her duty.

She felt angry at Henry VIII.

She and Catherine had been close since Catherine's teenage years.

Catherine now viewed Maria as her confidante.

Maria marched into Catherine's chambers and to her annoyance, all of Catherine's English ladies-in-waiting and maids-of-honour were there as well as a couple of ladies from her Spanish retinue. Maria was in no mood to converse with them.

"Out!" she ordered. "All of you out!"

The maids-of-honour scampered out, frightened.

A couple of ladies-in-waiting stood up and departed. The rest of them continued playing cards and doing whatever they were doing, ignoring her.

Maria's ally, Margaret Pole, the 8th Countess of Salisbury stood up.

"Ladies," she said gravely. "The Queen requires a private conference with me and Lady Maria. Please leave to the antechamber."

The ladies grumbled amongst themselves and went out.

Lady Pole waited until all of them left and closed the door.

"I figured you'll need my help," she said to Maria. "These English ladies have no respect for foreigners, and prefer to ignore you. Come, Her Majesty's in her room, praying again. She won't mind if you need to see her during that time."

Maria and Lady Pole went to Catherine's room, and Maria knocked on the door.

"Come in!" called Catherine.

She rose from her praying position and smiled, when she saw her two closest, and most trusted friends and confidantes together.

"Lady Pole, Maria!" Catherine said pleasantly. "Please sit down."

"I have news for you," said Maria promptly.

"Maria, what is it? Sit, please. You look determined."

"I don't know if you already know this, but the King had became unfaithful to you. He's having an affair with one of you English ladies-in-waiting. It's been a month, and the whole Court's talking about it. I felt it my duty to tell you."

They had spoken in Spanish.

Lady Pole looked at them patiently.

She had began learning Spanish from Catherine, and only understood a couple of words.

She knew that Catherine and Maria spoke Spanish instead of English, not because they don't trust her, but in case someone was eavesdropping.

"Ah," said Catherine quietly (in Spanish). "He's finally convinced himself that the only way to be a man is to be unfaithful to his wife."

"Catherine," said Maria uncertainly. "Don't think that."

"Maria, it's not you. I knew it would happen someday, but I didn't know it would be so soon after the birth of our Mary. I thought it happen next year, or in a couple of months time. I guess I'll be expecting a gaggle of her sisters in my household, and her father or brother taking the highest posts in the Council and they'll be getting many riches."

"Are you okay with it?"

"I have no option, dear Maria. Who is this lady?"

"I'm not sure who it is, but I'm pretty certain that he's having an affair with the Countess of Huntingdon at the moment."

"Anne Stafford?! The Duke of Buckingham's sister?!"

"I know. I was shocked when I saw her with the King too. I thought that the sister of the Duke would have some self-respect."

"I assume you're talking about the Countess of Huntingdon?" said Lady Pole calmly. "I don't need to

know Spanish by that! I can see it in your eyes and the way you move. Catherine, there's nothing dangerous about the King and the Countess at the moment. I'm sure you know how Kings usually react with their mistresses."

Maria and Catherine looked at her.

"Are you sure?" said Catherine (in English) uncertainly.

"I'm positive," said Lady Pole confidently. "The King will be head-over-heels in love with her for a couple of weeks, and then, poof! He'll discard her just as quickly."

"Why?"

"Men take mistresses for the hunt. They might say they love them, but it's not true. They'll say all the words you want to hear, but a couple of weeks later, they won't recognise you. Don't worry, Catherine, he still loves you and always will."

Catherine wasn't so sure.

She heard Henry VIII professing his 'undying love' for her a million times, and always knew that he was exaggerating over his love for her.

Probably he was proclaiming his love for the Countess of Huntingdon right now.

The door opened and a laughing woman ran in.

She halted in horror when she saw Catherine.

Male laughter floated in the room as a man raced in after her.

"Who are you?" demanded Catherine. "Speak! Both of you! Stand up! I won't allow this terrible behaviour in my household! You should know how to behave in Court! I might bring this matter before the King if I decide to!'

"Your Majesty," said the woman, curtseying at once. "Please forgive me. I'm Lady Anne Hastings, the Countess of Huntingdon, and this is Sir Francis Stanley."

Catherine's eyes narrowed.

Not only is Lady Hastings being unfaithful to her husband, she's unfaithful to the King!

Catherine was well aware of the Stanley family, and was surprised to see Sir Francis Stanley having an affair with a well-known harlot. The Stanleys have always been loyal to the bone, and viewed honour, pride and loyalty above most matters. Many notable Stanleys have married well, and now this Francis Stanley is ruining his reputation!

"What is the meaning of this?" inquired Catherine.

"Wrong room, Your Majesty," said Lady Hastings hastily.

Catherine glanced at her, deciding whether Lady Hastings was eavesdropping on her and surprised by a male friend, or whether she was telling the truth.

She was hurt when she thought of Henry VIII sending a spy after her.

_No,_ she told herself sternly. _It's not Henry. It's the Duke of Buckingham._

Lady Hastings's brother, Edward Stafford, the 3rd Duke of Buckingham, was an ambitious man, and has a claim to the throne, being descended from Edward III of England and Philippa of Hainault's youngest son, Thomas, the Duke of Gloucester.

Catherine knew that a threat to her husband, is a threat to her.

"Your Majesty?" said Maria softly.

"I expect better of you," she said to Sir Francis. "My husband views your family greatly, so I'll let this matter pass. I don't want to see your reputation in the mud. As for you-" she turned to Lady Hastings. "-I don't want to see you here again. In fact, I don't want to see you in my household at all. I'd command you to leave, but if the King somehow prevents it, I want you placed in my sister-in-law's household. Do both of you understand?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," said Lady Hastings demurely.

Catherine gave her a long stare and finally dismissed her.

She turned to Sir Francis.

"You are still unmarried," she commented. "I think that you had enough affairs and it's about time you get settled down and married. You'll be forgiven for the numerous sins you committed by marrying a well-bred woman and starting a family."

"Yes, Your Majesty," said Sir Francis with another bow. "My father had been saying the same thing to

me a couple of a days ago. The problem is, that I'm a second son and we aren't the richest Stanleys in the kingdom. A good woman is hard to find."

"Hmm, I thought you would say something like that."

"Have you got a woman in mind, Your Majesty?"

"Yes, I do. I have decided that a good woman will be helpful for you. You might learn a thing or two about courtly manners with her. I have decided for you to marry my lady-in-waiting, Dona Leanor de Cisneros, the daughter of a man Their Majesties view highly. Dona Leanor's parents might have a little objection in their daughter marrying a second son, but I'll make sure both of you are well provided for, and maybe a barony for you."

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

"Just keep in mind, that if I hear about your indiscreet behaviour again, I won't be so kind on you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"You may go."

Sir Francis bowed and departed.

* * *

As Catherine thought, Henry VIII refused to remove Lady Hastings from her household. Instead, he recommended a promotion for her.

Catherine said nothing when he yelled at her.

She knew that Henry VIII will cool down.

"I hope your nursery is cosy," said Henry VIII coldly. "And I expect Mary to accept her half-sibling with no trace of hate."

Catherine looked at him, surprised.

"Yes," he said spitefully. "Anne is pregnant with my child, and I will acknowledge that child. I will not have him known as the Tudor bastard. He won't take his mother's last name at all. He'll be known as Henry Fitzroy, the Duke of Richmond, my acknowledged son. If it's a daughter, she'll be named Elizabeth Fitzroy, the Countess of Pembroke."

Catherine swallowed and nodded.

She knew that it was a warning; you'll accept my mistresses and bastards no matter what.

She knew that Henry VIII never wanted their first daughter to be named after the Holy Virgin. He wanted her named after his mother. Catherine thought regretfully that if they named the baby Elizabeth instead of Mary, this wouldn't have happened.

Henry VIII stormed out of her chambers.

Catherine sat on her chair, a lump in her throat.

_I will not cry,_ she told herself. _I will not cry._

Maria came in.

"Are you alright?" she said, concerned. "I saw your husband leaving your chambers. He seemed to be very angry. Do you need anything?"

"His mistress is pregnant," Catherine told Maria.

"Oh no."

"And Henry wants his bastard raised alongside Mary, no matter whether it's a girl or boy. Apparently, he or she will be titled 'Fitzroy'."

"Acknowledged child of the King."

"Exactly. I was hoping to tell him good news, but it'll have to wait."

"What is it?"

"I checked with my physician yesterday, and he told me some interesting news. I'm pregnant. He said that I'm very fertile, and will have many children with Henry. He said that at this rate, I'll have two or one children a year!"

"Congratulations!"

"I don't think Henry cares."

Her voice was bitter. Catherine had never felt so upset and depressed in her life. Her childhood was full

of happiness and joy, but marked with sadness when two of her siblings died. Marriage was wonderful, but this was not what she expected. She had always thought she would be happily married with Henry VIII, with an occasional argument or two.

"There's been talk at Court," said Maria, changing the topic.

"Oh?" said Catherine listlessly.

"Do you know the Duke of Norfolk?"

"Thomas Howard? Yes, I'm sure I remember him. He was a member of the welcoming party when I first arrived in England. Is he back at Court?"

"Yes. He's a good friend to the King."

"Is there something going on?"

"I'm sure you're aware that the Duke is looking for another wife. His first wife was the late Princess Anne of York (daughter of Edward IV). There's been talk that the Duke would either marry Princess Anne's younger sister, Princess Catherine of York, the Dowager Countess of Devon, or the Dowager Countess's daughter, Lady Margaret Courtenay. When Princess Mary was widowed, there was talk of her marrying the Duke as well."

"I don't think she'll be happy with that!"

"It was only rumours. The Duke had requested a good match."

"He can arrange it himself."

"He specified that he wanted the King to arrange a good and honourable match for him, and your husband had agreed!"

"Who had he chosen?"

"Lady Elizabeth Stafford! The Duke of Buckingham's daughter!"

Catherine stared at her, shocked.

"You can't be serious," she said, getting over the shock. "Why would Henry arrange for Norfolk to marry the Duke of Buckingham's daughter?! His first wife is a Princess of York and his rumoured betrothed were all Princesses and daughters of Princesses! Now Henry's planning for the Duke of Norfolk to marry his distant cousin, Buckingham's daughter?!"

Maria nodded regretfully.

Catherine frowned slightly.

A messenger entered her room and bowed.

"His Grace, the Duke of Norfolk wishes to see you," he told Catherine.

"Ah," murmured Catherine. "The Duke of Norfolk wishes to see me. What does he want? To take my daughter as a wife for one of his nephews?"

She thought of his family and sighed.

His sister, Elizabeth Howard, had married Sir Thomas Boleyn, a young, ambitious courtier. Between the both of them, they have three surviving children.

Probably the Duke wants Mary to be the wife of his nephew, George Boleyn.

Catherine's thoughts turned to thinking of the future.

She loves children and wanted a nursery full of them.

"Let him in," she said to the messenger.

The messenger hurried off and returned with Thomas Howard, the 3rd Duke of Norfolk, who gave Catherine a grim smile.

"Your Majesty," he said, kissing her hand.

"Your Grace," Catherine returned. "Will you sit?"

"I won't take too much of Your Majesty's time. I have a request. After mourning my late wife for a couple of months, I had decided to return to Court, and I visited my numerous sisters and brothers before I came back here."

"Yes?"

"Unfortunately, things haven't brightened up for them."

"Can you please specify on that, My Lord?"

"My younger brother, Lord Edmund. He's in debts again and I think it's about time he gets married. The debts aren't his fault. Our late father left his debts divided unequally between my brothers and I, and he had unfortunately landed with the most debts. I tried to help cover it up, but he can't live well with all those debts on his head."

"You should put this matter to the King."

"Ah, that brings me to my second point, Your Majesty."

"Go ahead."

"I was hoping that you can arrange a good marriage for Edmund. A marriage that can settle those debts once and for all."

"And if I do?"

"I'll owe you my allegiance forever."

"My Lord Duke. I know how ambitious young men get. Who's benefit are you doing for? Are you saving your late father from his sins, or are you making an advantageous move for your family? How should I know to trust you?"

"I'll leave my niece and Heiress Presumptive, Lady Philippa, in your safe keeping. She's only two years old, and the orphaned daughter of my late brother, Sir Edward Howard."

"And how would that make me trust you?"

"It'll all work out after my marriage."

"Please continue."

"I'll send my wife into your household, and if you want, my future daughters into the household of the Princess Mary. They can be her Maids-of-Honour. I'm sure that you'd want your children to be good friends with the children of nobility!"

"Of course. I will not have a herd of Howards though."

"Of course. Just my future daughters."

"Very well. And if you break our deal?"

"You may do whatever you like with the Howard ladies. If you'd prefer, I'll send Lady Philippa to you straight away."

"Good. I'll keep my eyes open for a suitable woman."

The Duke of Norfolk bowed again and departed.

He couldn't help himself, but smirk as he left for his apartments.

_Catherine may be suspicious, but won't be for long,_ he thought._ Especially when she sees my niece, that woman can fall for a child any day. I doubt she knows the true ways of ambition in Court! I'll make sure the Howards have all the advantages there can be! If only Anne of York didn't die. We would have had children by now. A heap of them._

Even though he thought he outwitted Catherine, he still respected her.

The Duke hated educated, witty women who can think and be suspicious of others. He hated controlling women who are ambitious (set by the example of his step-mother, Agnes Tilney, the Dowager Duchess of Norfolk) and self-absorbing.

Catherine was the only exception.

Not because she was Queen of England!

Thomas Howard shook those sentimental thoughts out of his head.

_Stop it!_ He scolded himself. _What are you thinking of?! Ambition's first, not sentimental emotions or anything else! You don't want the Seymours to get top prize, now do you? The Seymours can't get all the things you worked hard at! _

He met his sister, Lady Boleyn, in the courtyard.

"Elizabeth!" said the Duke of Norfolk heartily. "How nice to see you!"

"Thomas," said Lady Boleyn pleasantly. "I see you've returned to Court at the same time as me and my husband! May I ask the nature of your business?"

"I'm looking for a wife."

"Have you found one yet?"

"I've sent my feelers and told the King. I want a good marriage."

"Of course. Have you seen my children yet? They often call for their Uncle Thomas. You might find something useful in them as well."

"Thank you for offering their services. I'm sure I'll find a use for every Howard girl through blood or

marriage. Good suggestion though. Maybe I'll go and visit Hever Castle after my business here. Will it be possible for you and your husband to come to dinner at my apartments? We have a couple of interesting matters to discuss."

"Of course. I'm sure he'll be pleased to see you."

"I'll be pleased to see him too!"

"I wish you well on your business, dear brother. My husband and I will see you tonight. Good luck in your mission of finding a wife!"

"Ah, there's another thing I need to tell you."

"Which is?"

"I think that our father made a mistake in arranging a marriage between you and Sir Thomas Boleyn when he was alive. If he thought that Thomas Boleyn would succeed as the Earl of some Irish peerage, he was wrong. It's been many years, and he still hadn't got himself promoted to a peerage. For an ambitious man, I'm surprised at him. Boleyn had stayed a knight while other young men promoted themselves and became Barons and Earls."

"Are you suggesting we divorce?"

"Is that uncertainty I hear, dear sister?"

"It's a question, Thomas."

"Of course, of course. I'm merely saying that I've put in word about this peerage matter to the King, and he's thinking about rewarding him with an earldom."

"Thomas, you can't be serious!"

"I am. I can't let my sister remain a knight's wife while our half-sisters become Countesses, Baronesses and Duchesses, now can I? What kind of brother will I be?! The King will most likely give your husband the title Earl of Wiltshire."

"Thank you, Thomas! Thank you!"

The Duke of Norfolk smiled ruefully at his sister.

Elizabeth should know that whatever he does, will always benefit the family.

* * *

**Please review! I'll feel more comfortable if I know whether you like ****_Dead Promises_**** or not! :)**


	3. Chapter III

Chapter III

**December, 1511**

Months flew by, and Catherine and Henry VIII were both waiting anxiously for news, good for Henry, and uncertainty for Catherine.

Lady Hastings was giving birth to Henry VIII's bastard.

The whole Court had gossiped about the King's affair.

There was talk that Henry VIII will take Lady Hastings as his formal mistress, and their children will be given the same privileges as his own legitimate children. That filled Catherine with doubt. Henry VIII had been quite cool towards her lately…

At least the King was tiring of Lady Hastings.

Once he discarded her, Catherine will have her revenge.

She despised the fact that her baby will be born a couple of weeks after Lady Hastings's. She hoped that it'll win Henry's love back.

Catherine had accepted Norfolk's niece, Lady Philippa, into her household, and decided that she'll be a good playmate for Princess Mary. Even though Philippa was a Howard, Catherine knew that her daughter will have to have companions eventually.

Lady Philippa was transferred to Princess Mary's household, and it was decided she'll be given the education of a noblewoman.

The midwife raced to the throne room.

"Yes?" said Henry and Catherine in unison.

"It's a girl!" gasped the midwife, bobbing a quick curtsey. "Lady Hastings is in a delicate condition right now, but I think she'll recover."

A girl!

Catherine silently sighed in relief.

An illegitimate girl isn't as dangerous as an illegitimate boy!

Let the King name his bastard baby whatever he likes. It's not Catherine's, and she doesn't have the position to name her anyway.

She entered Lady Hastings chambers with Henry VIII.

"A girl, Anne!" Henry VIII said, pleased. "What shall we name her?"

"What would you prefer, My Lord?" said Lady Hastings weakly. "I prefer to name her Joan, the family saint, but-"

Henry VIII stood up abruptly.

_He had enough of religion,_ thought Catherin smugly. _His first daughter named after the Holy Mother, and now his bastard's mother wants to name her after another religious saint! How much religion can he take in? Henry's never a religious man._

"We'll name her Elizabeth," he said shortly. "I'll see you at dinner."

Leaving Lady Hastings bewildered, Henry VIII stroded out. Catherine calmly walked after him, leaving Lady Hastings all alone with her baby.

Henry VIII turned around and sobbed into Catherine's shoulder.

"Henry," soothed Catherine. "It's alright."

"No!" sobbed Henry VIII. "Why's this happening to me?! Anne promised me a son, and I get a bastard daughter instead! And she wants to name her after a religious saint! Why can't anyone name their child after a member of my family?! I'm royal! My family's royal! No one wants to name their daughter Elizabeth or Margaret! Why?!"

"We will. I'm pregnant, remember?"

"It won't be a son, will it?"

"We will see. If it's a daughter, we'll name her Elizabeth. If it's a son, we'll name her Henry. Come, let's go and talk privately."

Henry VIII allowed himself to be led away.

Catherine knew Henry's weaknesses. She knew he's desperate for a son, any son. He didn't care if it's a bastard or legitimate son. He wants to prove that he's capable of having sons, and in his dreams, he always imagined a perfect family involving a brood of sons that look like him. Catherine was glad Lady Hastings had given birth to a girl, not a son. It'll be humiliating to name a legitimate son after an illegitimate son, who was named after Henry VIII.

Norfolk watched Henry VIII and Catherine leave.

He glanced at Lady Hastings.

She was crying.

Norfolk had a gut feeling that Lady Hastings will be discarded in a couple of days, or at the most, two weeks. She won't be accepted back in Court by either the King or Queen, and will be banished from Court in disgrace. Her family will probably never accept her back. They might even disinherit her. Norfolk felt no sympathy for the girl.

He looked at her thoughtfully.

An alliance with the Staffords won't be too bad…

The Duke changed his mind.

It'll be pointless to have an alliance with the Staffords at this time.

Norfolk turned around and walked off.

"Norfolk!"

He turned around again and saw Henry VIII gesturing to him. Catherine wasn't with him. The Duke walked towards the King.

He bowed.

"Thomas!" said Henry VIII heartily. "Good to see you! I have thought of a match for you! I'm sure you'll approve of it! Earlier on, I have thought of Elizabeth Stafford as the perfect wife for you, and now I'm every bit confident that she's the perfect wife for you!"

"Thank you," Norfolk said calmly.

"The wedding will be held straight away!"

"Of course, My Lord."

"I'm sure you'll consider this a good match. Unfortunately, it's not as well-off as your first marriage, but it couldn't get any better."

"It' is a good match, My Lord."

"Excellent! The wedding will be held after Catherine gives birth to our child."

The Duke of Norfolk bowed again and left, feeling pleased with himself. He's looking forward to his second marriage with great enthusiasm.

* * *

A few weeks had past, and Catherine was in labour for the second time. It felt more easier than the other time to her.

After ten hours of labour, she was rewarded with the cry of a baby.

"It's a son!" announced the midwife.

Catherine felt triumphant.

Finally! An Heir to the Throne! Henry had received a bastard daughter a couple of weeks before, and now he had a legitimate son! Catherine had successfully given birth to two children in two years of marriage and seemed to be healthy and in good condition.

Henry VIII ran into the room, a big smile on his face.

"Girl or boy?" he said at once.

"A boy," Catherine answered.

Henry was stunned.

He recovered in a minute, and kissed Catherine, full of joy and happiness. England has its Prince of Wales, and he has his son.

"What name?" said Henry, still happy.

"Henry," said Catherine promptly. "After you. You're a great King, and our son will be the next great Tudor King of the name Henry. Three is good luck, and the House of Tudor will remain in power with the three Henries in a row."

Henry VIII was touched.

"I'll always love you," he vowed. "No matter what, you'll always be the true love of my life. You're the

mother of my children and my Queen."

Catherine smiled.

She held out baby Harry and Henry VIII took his son in wonder. It seemed like he had never held a baby boy in his life before!

"This is well for us," said Henry VIII gleefully. "We have a son _and_ daughter, and that Francis I of France has only a weakling daughter! Ha!"

Catherine laughed softly.

Henry VIII loved comparing England to France.

He had a point though; Francis I only had one daughter.

France went by Salic Law, in which women can't inherit the throne, so things were looking bad for the King of France, who only had a daughter (Louise) so far, and she didn't sound too healthy when the English ambassador described her to them.

There was news that Queen Claude of France is pregnant again.

Catherine could tell what Henry VIII was thinking.

If a marriage could be arranged between Princess Louise of France and Prince Harry, Henry VIII was probably thinking of absorbing France into England, or at the most, Brittany (Claude's the sovereign Duchess of Brittany). Catherine was relieved that the plans of Princess Mary's betrothal ended in nothing, since the Duke of Vendome hurriedly married Princess Francoise of Alencon (with the King's consent) without further preparations.

Henry VIII wasn't as furious as Catherine expected.

His eyes were already casted on the duchy of Burgundy.

Catherine didn't know whether to be pleased or upset.

The duchy of Burgundy was ruled by her brother-in-law, Philip (Joanna's late husband), and now it belonged to her nephew, Archduke Charles. If Henry VIII wanted Burgundy, it'll be likely that a betrothal will be made between Princess Mary and Charles.

Catherine was happy at that.

Her daughter will be happy married to a Habsburg cousin rather than a Bourbon stranger.

Henry VIII rocked little Harry gently.

"We have two children," commented Henry VIII. "We'll have a big family! We'll be rivalling Edward III and Philippa of Hainault! Won't we, Catherine?"

"We will," agreed Catherine.

"Who shall our little Harry be betrothed to?"

"Who do you think he should? How do you think our little Mary will react to a little brother? She won't rule the nursery anymore!"

Henry VIII laughed.

He was the happiest man on Earth.

Catherine's granted him his most fervent prayer; a son.

"Don't forget our daughter," said Catherine, watching him. "You can't just spoil our son. Mary's just as adorable as our son."

* * *

A month later, Princess Mary turned a year old.

Her birthday was celebrated with great pomp, and expenses were laid aside. All of England was content with their baby Prince of Wales, but were just as happy to celebrate the birthday of his older sister, and their little Princess.

When the procession began in London, the streets were filled with citizens.

"Long live the King!" cheered the people. "Buff King Hal! Long live the Queen! Good Queen Cate! Long live the Princess! Long live the Prince!"

Henry VIII was filled with pride.

The people loved him!

Charles was right.

The English people love him for being himself and not like his miserly father, who taxed everyone

unfairly and cared for nothing but money. Henry VII only cared for the stability of the Tudor dynasty, and Henry VIII cared for his people. That was decided between the people, and they cheered Henry VIII's name whenever they see him.

Noblemen lined up in the throne room with their presents.

Princess Mary was too young to receive them, but she'll still be there.

During the procession, Princess Mary was held proudly by her aunt, the Duchess of Suffolk, while the two month old Prince of Wales was held by Charles.

Norfolk watched them jealously.

He had hoped he would be the one to hold the Prince of Wales.

If not, then Princess Mary would be sufficient enough.

Whoever held a royal child was in high favour with the King.

Norfolk had successfully persuaded Henry VIII to give the title Earl of Wiltshire to Thomas Boleyn, and now wanted more. His wife Elizabeth, is now pregnant with their first child, and the Duke hoped the child would be a boy. Catherine had found a wealthy widow (Lady Jocasta Leigh-nee' Culpeper) for his brother, Edmund, and Norfolk sent his wife into Catherine's household. Norfolk knew that a daughter would be very useful as well.

Perhaps his future daughter would marry the Prince of Wales…

The Duke had made himself a new goal for the future.

He knew that the Tudor dynasty wasn't fully secure (even with the birth of a son) and not all noblemen were pleased with Henry VIII as King. It would be wise for Henry VIII's children to marry English nobles rather than foreign rulers.

Norfolk hoped that a Howard girl would become Queen of England one day.

To be precise, one of his future daughters.

"Thomas?" said Elizabeth softly. "What are you scheming now?"

The Duke sighed.

Elizabeth knew his scheming mode so well. Not out of love. She loathed the fact that she was forced to marry the Duke instead of the Earl of Westmorland, whom she had fallen in love with. Their children will be formed from duty, not love.

"You don't need to know," said the Duke stiffly.

"Yes I do," insisted Elizabeth. "Especially if it concerns the children I'll bear!"

Elizabeth had a point.

The Duke pulled her away from the procession and into the closest garden.

"The King has two children," he murmured. "And by his and Catherine' fertileness, they'll most likely have a brood of children. The King seems to be a family man more than a politician. It's Catherine and Wolsey who are the politicians. What if the King wants to keep his family close, but marry his children off befitting the status of royalty? What if our future daughter marries the Prince of Wales? There'll soon be a Howard Queen consort on the Tudor Throne, and the rest of their descendants will be half-Howard and half-Tudor. Imagine that!"

"Impossible," said Elizabeth shortly. "Totally impossible."

"Why's that? Don't you trust my plans?"

"Wolsey won't allow it."

"Wolsey! You actually believe that Wolsey will stay in power for long?! Take my word that this son of a butcher would have his downfall in a couple of years time."

"If you believe that, then what about Catherine?"

"What about her?"

"Thomas, Catherine is the King's wife. If the King stops listening to Wolsey, he'll listen to her more, and she'll want alliances with other kingdoms. She won't approve of English noblemen marrying her daughters and English noblewomen marrying her sons. She definitely won't approve of you Howards trampling into her household."

"_Us_ Howards, Elizabeth. _Us Howards._ My plans will work. You'll see."

The Duke led Elizabeth back to the procession, just as the royal family came up to him. They stopped in front of Norfolk and Elizabeth. Norfolk and Elizabeth bowed/curtsied and the English citizens craned their heads to have a closer look at what was happening. The Duke was pleased that he was getting a good amount of attention.

"Thomas!" boomed Henry VIII.

"Your Majesty," said the Duke calmly.

"You've brought your lovely wife! How thoughtful of you! Why are you here with the noblemen? You should be riding in the procession with me, Cate and our family! You're the Premier Duke of England and I think you deserve the honour of riding with the royal family! Elizabeth can ride with my cousins in the carriage! You will ride next to me!"

"Your Majesty, that's-"

"No protest! Join us now! It's an order!"

The other noblemen looked enviously as the Duke climbed onto a horse that was next to the King and his wife was taken into the royal carriage.

The people cheered.

They were happy at the King's actions.

For the rest of the procession, the King rode in between Catherine and the Duke, the King's cousins sat stiffly in the carriage with Elizabeth. Charles and Mary rode silently behind the King, Queen and the Duke with the royal children.

Princess Mary was gurgling happily and waving to the people.

Catherine looked back and smiled.

She'll be a strong Queen someday, she thought. Henry might love his son, but Mary's my favourite. She will marry a Habsburg, not a French Bourbon or a Scottish Stuart. Mary will be just like her grandmother, the Great Queen Isabella of Spain.

The royal party arrived at the Tower of London.

Catherine shivered.

It wasn't an ideal place to celebrate a birthday, but Henry VIII insisted.

He wanted the Londoners to view their procession.

The approval of the Londoners meant the approval of England.

Catherine had hoped to celebrate Princess Mary's birthday in Greenwich Palace (the place where Mary was born), but Henry VIII promised her that for little Harry's birthday, they'll celebrate it either in Greenwich or Richmond.

The royal party walked into the royal apartments where the other noblemen waited.

They bowed at once.

Their wives (or sisters) curtsied.

Henry VIII and Catherine sat on their thrones, and the Duke and Duchess of Suffolk sat next to them with the Princess Mary and the Prince of Wales. It had been decided that the attention will be spent completely on Princess Mary.

The noblemen lined up in their order of precedence with the Duke of Norfolk at the front.

"Your Majesty," said the Duke politely. "On behalf of the Howards, we present the Princess Mary with this set of jewels and bolts of coloured silk, and this circlet."

He handed the King a large velvet box.

Henry VIII opened it and was speechless.

Nestling on a velvet layer was a jewelled crucifix necklace. It was glided on the edge with gold, and the back of it was made from solid gold. The front of the crucifix was silver, and decorated with small rubies as red as blood. Next to the crucifix was a pair of ruby earrings, outlined in gold. Below that were two golden bracelets (golden) with rubies.

It was clearly an expensive gift, but that wasn't all.

The circlet was silver with small pearls on it.

The Duke had imagined that circlet would excellently match Princess Mary's future reddish, auburn hair (she had a tuff of red hair).

Catherine and Henry VIII couldn't thank the Duke enough.

"It's nothing," said the Duke modestly. "Elizabeth and I thought they would be wonderful gifts for a little girl. I'm sure the Princess will wear the jewels when she's older, and the bolts of silk would come into some use. I would've given more for the little Princess, but Elizabeth stopped me! She reminded me that we would run out of money if we spend all our money on the Princess! Your Majesties, I hope you accept the gifts from the Howards."

"We have matters to discuss," said the King, recovering from shock.

Catherine nodded in agreement.

The rest of the noblemen handed out the gifts, some gave Norfolk venomous looks, while others looked at him calculatingly.

Norfolk smiled to himself.

His future children will be _very_ important for noble alliances.

After the birthday feast, the Duke was summoned to Henry VIII's presence. The Duke was confident that it would be good news. Catherine was with him. The Duke bowed ceremoniously, but the King waved it aside, and pulled him up from the carpet. The Duchess of Suffolk sniffed snobbishly. She never liked the Duke of Norfolk much. He was too ambitious in her view, and a competitor for her brother's favour (which would normally be taken by Charles or Wolsey).

The Duke ignored her.

She would be begging for his favour in a couple of years' time.

"Thomas!" said Henry VIII happily.

"Your Majesty," greeted the Duke.

"No formalities! Please! I've been received them all day! Catherine and I've been thinking about what to do with you for a while now."

"What to do?"

"Don't look so alarmed! I'm not going to arrest you! You're already the Premier Duke of England, so what can I do to reward you? I know! I'll make you the Earl Marshal and a Knight of the Garter! That'll compensate for the presents you gave my dear Pearl! What do you think, Norfolk? Do you reckon you deserve those honours?"

"I have nothing to say, Your Majesty."

"Good! The knighting will be in a couple of days!"

"You deserve it," said Catherine softly. "I'm sure that Princess Mary will view you highly when she grows up and gets to know you more."

Norfolk nodded and bowed again.

He departed, feeling more respect to Catherine than before.

* * *

**Please review! :) **


	4. Chapter IV

Chapter IV

**October, 1512**

The year of 1512 hadn't been well for Catherine. In July, Catherine received the news that her mother, Isabella I of Spain, had died.

Catherine was full of sorrow.

She had always been close to her mother.

Even during her marriage, Catherine kept close contact with her mother. She kept closer contact to her than to any other member of her Spanish family. For the first month of her mother's death, Catherine was desolate and inconsolable.

She was also in her seventh month of pregnancy.

Henry VIII was worried.

He didn't want his child born dead.

He ordered the Court to go in mourning for the great Spanish Queen. Henry VIII knew that because of the prosperous reign of Isabella I, his father arranged a marriage between Catherine and him (him replacing Arthur). Catherine was grateful to him, and recovered from desolation. She knew that her sister Joanna, was now Queen of Castile, and once their father died, the Queen of Spain. Archduke Charles is now the Prince of Asturias.

Catherine went into confinement at the end of November.

The whole Court waited anxiously for news.

Catherine had proved herself capable of bearing children, but there's always the risk of Catherine dying in childbirth, like how her older sister, Isabella, died.

In the middle of October, Catherine went into labour.

It was a girl.

Her birth was received with mixed feelings.

Henry VIII was a little disappointed it wasn't the Duke of York he was expecting, but he was optimistic that their next child will be another son. He was pleased that Catherine was well (she recovered quickly from the pregnancy).

He was kind-hearted enough to name his new daughter Isabella, after Catherine's mother, instead of after his own mother.

Catherine was happy.

She was so pleased with Henry VIII, that she decided to take in his illegitimate child.

Months after Prince Harry's birth, Lady Hastings was discarded with her daughter, who hadn't been properly acknowledged as the King's daughter. Lady Hastings was sent to a convent by her husband, and the baby was sent with her. Her brother, the Duke of Buckingham, didn't take her away from the convent, or her baby.

Henry VIII had forgotten about his bastard, but Catherine hadn't.

"I've been thinking," said Catherine uncertainly.

"About?" said Henry VIII, playing with little Isabella.

"Lady Elizabeth…Fitzroy."

"Who?"

"You and Lady Hastings's child. She's a little older than our Harry. I heard that she's been neglected at the convent, and uncared for."

"Really now?"

"Henry. You care for her."

"What about her? Catherine, I really don't want to talk about it."

"I think we should bring her into the nursery with Mary, Harry and Isabella. She is half-royal, after all, and your child. Our children might like some new companions to grow up with. I'm sure Norfolk won't mind sending his daughter here too."

"You mean it?"

"You granted my wish in naming our daughter Isabella."

"Oh, Catherine! You're the goddess of my life! No other wife would've thought of that! How can you tell that I still love Elizabeth? I tried to move her out of my life, but it's impossible! I may have lost interest in the mother, but I still have a yearning to see Elizabeth. There's been talk that she'll have red, flaming hair like me! How do you know?!"

"Maternal instinct. When should she be summoned?"

"Right away! I do have one request though…"

"What is it?"

"I don't doubt your fertility, but when Lady Hastings gave birth to my first illegitimate child, I didn't think of naming it. The first name that came into my head was Elizabeth. I don't want my bastard named after my mother. I want to change it. To another royal name of course, and a member of the royal family. I just want to name another daughter Elizabeth."

"What name?"

"After you, Cate. After you."

"Your mother's name isn't good enough and mine is?"

"Don't think of it as that!"

"How else can I think of it?"

"Lady Hastings would never name her after you. Think of it as a sign of defiance. If you must insist, I'll name her Catalina Elisabeth."

"Thank you, Henry."

Henry VIII kissed her on the forehead.

He couldn't believe his luck.

Catherine had agreed in allowing his illegitimate child to be raised (by free will) in her nursery, and she's ready to accept the girl as a member of the royal family, even though she's not her child. Henry VIII was the happiest man in England.

He left Catherine's chambers and wrote a letter to the convent.

He knew that Lady Hastings would have to remain in the convent, but he'll find a way to persuade Catherine to accept Lady Hastings back at Court.

The nuns arrived at night time with Catalina Elisabeth.

Both Catherine and Henry VIII greeted them.

"Your Majesties," the nuns murmured. "We have brought the Lady Catalina Elisabeth as planned. She is in the basket, asleep. Here she is."

One of them handed a basket to Catherine.

Catherine looked at it and saw a baby with a tuft of red hair.

"She looks like you," she commented. "There's no denying it. Thank you Sisters, for bringing the child at such a late hour. I hope you can be awake for tomorrow morning's prayers. Will this amount be sufficient for the convent?"

She handed a nun a bagful of coins.

The nun nodded.

They curtsied and left silently.

"What will her last name be?" inquired Catherine. "She'll get the title of 'Lady', and the acknowledgment of the King's daughter. You can decide on her annuity and dowry later when she's older and of use to you. For now, what will you give her as a last name? All sons and daughters have a last name, mostly a family name."

"I was thinking of Fitzroy," said Henry VIII thoughtfully. "But I changed my mind (again). I was thinking of giving her the last name of Tudor."

Catherine was silent.

Lady Catalina Elisabeth Tudor.

The acknowledged bastard daughter of the King.

"As you wish," she said finally. "I'll take Catalina to the nursery. After that, I'll be going to bed. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

Henry VIII watched sadly as she left with his bastard.

He had hurt Catherine.

Henry VIII felt angry at himself.

Couldn't he have restrained himself from siring a bastard?! Catherine wasn't alright. She was lying to

make him happy. Of course she would be hurt receiving a bastard name after her! What was he thinking of, when he named his bastard after her?! Even with the Spanish version, Catherine would be hurt that a bastard's named after her!

He suddenly _hated_ his illegitimate child.

He_ hated_ Lady Hastings.

Even though it was late, Henry VIII summoned the Duke of Norfolk into his chambers. Charles won't understand this.

"Thomas," said Henry VIII at once. "I have a problem."

The Duke had been shaken from his sleep, and a little grumpy at that, but he was fully awake and alert when it came with doing business with the King. The Duke knew that it could benefit the family if he becomes the soothing confidante.

"I had hurt Catherine," confessed Henry VIII. "She pains whenever she sees my child I had with Lady Hastings. What can I do, Thomas?"

The Duke was delighted.

It was unfortunate that the child's half-Stafford (his wife is a Stafford), but he knew that the advantages would only be for Howards only.

Not for Staffords.

"I thought she was in a convent," said the Duke, pretending to frown.

"I took her out," said Henry VIII miserably. "I missed her."

"Give her to your sister."

"My bastard had inherited my red hair! Anyone can tell that she's my daughter! I should've left her with Lady Hastings in the convent! I had stupidly renamed the girl Catalina! Catherine's not happy. She pretends she is, but she really isn't! Thomas, what can I do? I hurt her so much, and she gave me everything! She gave me three children, in which one is a son! Help me, Thomas. I want her to forgive me. What would you do if you're in my position?"

"As I was saying, give her into the care of the Duchess of Suffolk, and she can be raised alongside the Duchess's children as her ward."

"How does that help?"

"The Queen won't have to see her."

"How about education?"

"She can receive the same amount the Duchess's children receive. She is your illegitimate child, after all, and a top class education isn't necessary."

"Are you saying that my nieces and nephews' education isn't necessary?"

The Duke knew that this topic was dangerous.

He shrugged.

"It's your choice," he said flatly. "You're the King."

* * *

At the end, Henry VIII changed his illegitimate daughter's name (again) to Matilda, in honour of the wife of William the Conqueror.

He publically acknowledged her as Lady Matilda Tudor without a banquet.

Catherine was calm when he did the acknowledgment.

She was pleased Henry VIII had named their third child Isabella, but was still unhappy and hurt about how he conducted his love affair with Lady Hastings, and how the whole Court knew about it and she didn't for a while.

The Duchess of Suffolk accepted Matilda as her ward without questions.

Catherine felt sorry that little Matilda would live with her half-aunt, instead of her mother and father, and how she was born out of wedlock.

Illegitimate children never get the fair treatment.

Catherine had no idea why Henry VIII changed his mind on having Matilda raised away from her half-siblings and in the household of his sister. Catherine felt guilty for showing her true emotions of having a child of her husband's around her. Catherine had a nasty feeling that Henry VIII sent Matilda away to appease Catherine, and make her feel better. Catherine had no idea what she could do. Her Spanish ladies were pleased about it.

She decided to speak to the Duke of Norfolk.

Catherine summoned him to her chambers in the afternoon.

"Your Majesty," said the Duke, bowing. "You summoned me? Is there something I did to offend you, or is there something you need?"

"Lady Matilda Tudor," she said quietly.

"She's in the Duchess of Suffolk's household, Your Majesty."

"Why did the King change his mind?"

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty?"

"The King was pleased when I suggested the Lady Matilda to be brought up in the nursery with our royal children. Why did he suddenly change his mind and want Lady Matilda to be raised with his sister, the Duchess of Suffolk?"

"I don't know, Your Majesty."

"You do, Thomas. You do. What is it?"

"I'm afraid I can't betray the King to you, Your Majesty."

"Your Grace, can we come to some sort of agreement?"

The Duke smiled.

Who would've thought that the Queen offered terms with a subject?! Is she really that desperate for information her husband won't tell her?

The Duke knew it was good fortune for the Howards.

"What terms do you offer, Your Majesty?" he said slyly.

Here was a chance for a Howard to advance greatly.

"What terms do you suggest?" said Catherine promptly.

She knew that it was humiliating for her to negotiate with the sly Duke of Norfolk, but she had no other choice; she needed to know.

The Duke considered.

It was a good chance for him to advance the Howards.

Move them slowly to the Throne.

"I want a marriage arrangement," said the Duke, watching Catherine. "Between my daughter, Lady Katherine Howard, and your son, the Prince of Wales. I will pay a handsome dowry. Those are my terms and conditions, Your Majesty."

Catherine was still.

Will it be worth it?

Will the information the Duke has, be worth it for her son to be betrothed and soon married to a Howard girl? Will the information be true and accurate enough for Catherine to accept her descendants as half-Tudors and half-Howards, instead of the much-hoped half-Tudors, half-Habsburgs? What will Wolsey and her husband say?

The Duke waited patiently.

He was confident that his plans would work.

"Very well," said Catherine, after a while. "I agree to your terms."

"Before I tell you," spoke the Duke. "I'll need hard evidence that the Prince of Wales and Lady Katherine are future husband and wife."

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"Proxy betrothal. Between you and me, representing our children."

"Very well. Wait a moment."

She stood up and went to her private rooms.

The Duke could hardly contain his delight.

The Queen of England was seriously agreeing with him, just for measly information! He couldn't believe that Catherine was so desperate! He respected her for so long, but now! The Queen of England will be his puppet, and he'll rule England through her!

Catherine returned, a little pale, but determined. She held a small velvet box, which the Duke

recognised as a small ring box.

She opened it and showed him a Sapphire ring.

The Duke held out an Amethyst ring and offered it to Catherine.

Hesitating slightly, Catherine took it and handed the Duke the Sapphire ring. They looked at each other, silently sending each other messages.

"We'll represent our children," he said quietly.

Catherine nodded.

It was surprising to see the determined, stubborn Catherine so docile and obedient.

The Duke and Catherine recited the betrothal vows and swapped rings. Catherine hoped the information was worth the alliance wasted on the Prince of Wales. She had hoped for a double alliance between Charles, the Prince of Asturias and Princess Mary, and the Prince of Wales and Charles's younger sister, Infanta Isabella.

Catherine felt pleased with herself, despite those thoughts.

"The King worries about you," revealed the Duke.

"He's my husband," said Catherine flatly.

"The King feels that he had offended you by siring Lady Matilda Tudor with Lady Hastings and publically acknowledging her."

"I told him I'm fine!"

"He knows you're pretending. He wants to make it up to you."

Catherine said nothing.

With Lady Matilda away from her, there's no way she can keep an eye on that bastard! What if the King kept having bastards and acknowledging all of them?! What if the King kept sending them to Mary's household in secrecy?!

That wouldn't do.

That wouldn't do at all.

The Duke watched her intensively.

Catherine's face was expressionless.

"You may go," she said finally. "I have business to attend to. Private business. I hope your information is correct, Your Grace."

The Duke bowed and left.

Catherine went out a different door and went straight to Henry VIII's chambers.

"Cate!" said Henry VIII, relieved.

Wolsey and Charles were with him.

Wolsey looked at her disapprovingly.

Catherine knew that she must've been interrupting an important meeting. Wolsey seemed annoyed, but said nothing.

"Henry," said Catherine calmly. "I'm sorry to interrupt-"

"Not at all!" said Henry VIII quickly. "Charles, Thomas! Please leave!"

The two men stood up, bowed and departed.

"What can I do for you?" said Henry VIII pleasantly.

"I'm feeling a bit depressed and homesick," said Catherine, biting her lip. "Since Isabella's birth, I missed Spain, and I kept thinking of my childhood. I remembered when my father would have illegitimate children, and they would be brought up with me and my siblings. He used them for noble alliances. I was thinking that your Matilda should stay in the nursery with Mary, Harry and Isabella. It's only right for siblings to be raised together, illegitimate or not."

"I don't know…"

"_Please,_ Henry? It's my greatest wish and happiness."

"Are you sure about it?"

"Yes, Henry. I am."

Henry VIII was surprised at Catherine's response to him handing Matilda to his sister. He thought she would be happy that she wouldn't have to see his bastard.

"If that's what you want," said Henry VIII indulgently. "You're full of surprises, did you know that? I had

no idea you wanted Matilda in the nursery. If you mentioned that earlier, I wouldn't have given her into Mary's care in the first place! Having you as a wife is the greatest gift God ever gave me! Wolsey urged me to unacknowledge Matilda an hour ago."

Catherine shook her head in disbelief.

Henry VIII was in Heaven.

His Catherine had voluntarily agreed in raising his bastard, instead of transferring her to a different household away from Court.

Catherine curtsied and left.

The Duke of Norfolk won't be happy at what she did, but she didn't care.

She was Queen, while he was a mere Duke.

Catherine had no intention of keeping the proxy betrothal.

_Just you wait, Norfolk_, thought Catherine. _You must've thought yourself pretty smart when I complied to your ambitious wishes without a fight, for useless information. You'll see that there's more of my father in me than you think. My son will never marry your daughter. There'll never be a Howard Queen consort on the throne of England, and a half-Howard King of England. You'll never be the power behind the throne, as you think you will. _

As she walked past Wolsey, she felt his gaze fall on her.

She turned around and looked at him.

Wolsey bowed.

"Permit me to speak, Your Majesty," he murmured.

Catherine nodded.

"You may not need it now," said Wolsey quietly. "And you may think I'm a nuisance to the King, but sometime in the future, you'll need me. And when you do, I'll always be glad to be of your assistance. I hope you remember that."

"Who do you think will do that?" Catherine couldn't help saying.

"Between you and me, Your Majesty, I suspect the Duke of Norfolk."

"And your reason?"

"He's an ambitious man, who cares nothing for England. He only cares for his one gain, and the gain of his family's. He has his eyes on the Throne of England."

Catherine nodded curtly and left.

* * *

**Okay, so this is the deal:**

**2 reviews=1 chapter. **

**Just to let you know, I normally upload a chapter once a week, so it's up to you to review for a new chapter! :) The more reviews, the more chapters! :) **


	5. Chapter V

Chapter V

**May, 1514**

Henry VIII had noticed nothing wrong with Catherine's unusual behaviour. He had been preoccupied with the ideas of war, and his sons.

In 1513, Catherine had successfully delivered a set of twins.

Twin sons.

The English citizens went wild, and celebrations lasted for a week.

The elder twin was named Richard (after Richard the Lion Heart of England), the Duke of York, and the younger twin was called Arthur (after Henry VIII's late elder brother), the Duke of Lancaster, both boys ousting the Princesses Mary and Isabella from the second and third places to the Throne. None of the girls minded much.

There were now three sons of the House of Tudor.

Henry VIII felt safe.

The Tudor dynasty is now _completely_ secure.

It felt so secure, that Henry VIII decided it was time to invade France.

Catherine was worried for his life, but he assured her that he'll return in good health with little bits of France won by battle.

Prince Harry was only three!

There would have to be a regency if Henry VIII died.

The planning had went on for almost two years, and in 1514, Catherine gave birth to a girl, whom she named Margaret, after Henry VIII's older sister, the Queen consort of Scots, and his grandmother, Lady Margaret Beaufort, the found of the House of Tudor.

Henry VIII was pleased with baby Margaret.

"We can make plenty of alliances now!" he said, rubbing his hands with glee.

Catherine smiled.

He still didn't know about the proxy betrothal Catherine and Norfolk made in the names of their children two years ago.

Catherine glanced at the Amethyst ring.

Norfolk would want the marriage performed as soon as possible.

Catherine was pleased that Prince Harry was so young, and the marriage would have to be performed when he's at least fifteen. Twelve years until the marriage. Twelve years to change the fate that had befallen Prince Harry.

Princess Mary was four, and betrothals were made and broken a numerous amount of times, none of them lasting three months.

Catherine prayed fervently that Mary will marry the Heir of Spain.

"Stay safe, My Lord," she said quietly.

Henry VIII kissed her on the cheek and turned to their children.

The children were standing from their order of age, with Princess Mary first, and Princess Margaret in Maria de Salinas's arms.

In between them were Harry, the Prince of Wales, Princess Isabella, and the twins held by the Duke and Duchess of Suffolk.

"My sister, the Queen of Scots will be visiting," Henry VIII told Catherine. "She'll be coming with her two sons I think. Her husband will have to stay in Scotland, of course. A couple of other ambassadors might come and visit as well. I'm sure I can trust you to take good care of them. Oh, another thing before I leave, Cate. I'm leaving you as Regent of England."

Wolsey and Norfolk stared at him as if he was mad.

"I'm sorry, My Lord?" said Norfolk, flushing pink.

"I'm leaving Catherine in charge!" said the King brightly. "Her parents are the greatest monarchs of all times (excluding me of course!), and they must've taught Cate some things about politics! I'm sure I can trust her. You two can advise her!"

The Duke couldn't help but give Catherine a venomous look.

Catherine smiled back, triumphant. She will be the Ruler of England until Henry VIII returns, and there's

nothing Wolsey and Norfolk can do about it. Both of them were self-centred and too arrogant and proud to be allies for a short period of time.

"Let's have another babe in the nursery when I come back, eh?" whispered Henry VIII to Catherine, with a wink. "Seven will be a great number."

Catherine laughed.

She waved goodbye, as her husband and his men proceeded to invade France.

War will mean more taxes, and taxes means more unhappy people.

Richard the Lion Heart was a warrior King, loved by the citizens of England, but they still remembered the taxes he imposed on them when he was alive. Surprisingly, the people didn't mind paying extra taxes for Henry VIII's war against France.

Henry VIII had dreamt of being a warrior King, and here was his chance.

He wanted another memorable battle.

He wanted a Battle of Agincourt.

A Battle of Crecy.

Another memorable battle to the people.

The soldiers left, and the procession ended. Catherine knew that Henry VIII would write often (most likely boasting of his recent successes) and ask about the children (especially the sons). Henry VIII was a family man first, a King second, which's rare among Kings. Catherine went on a royal carriage, and her children in another.

Catherine couldn't wait to use her regency powers.

* * *

Margaret Tudor, Queen of Scots, had butterflies in her stomach. She was riding closer to the English-Scottish border on her Scottish pony.

Around her was her usual set of guards and ladies.

Joining them were a couple of Scottish nobles.

James IV of Scots had appointed Margaret his representative in England. He was too ill to travel to England with Margaret. James IV had never been as healthy as his brothers, and always had his bouts of illness once a month. James IV was desperate for an alliance renewal with England, and sent Margaret and their eldest son (James, the Duke of Rothesay) to England. Margaret knew that it won't be long before her husband dies, and their son becomes King of Scots.

Margaret thought of Catherine.

The last time she saw her, was when she was seventeen.

She glanced at her son.

The Duke of Rothesay was only four years old. His younger brother Alexander, the Duke of Ross, was three. Margaret had children before the Duke of Rothesay, but they all died a couple of hours after birth, or a couple of days.

Margaret's daughter, Princess Elizabeth of Scotland, was two.

Only the Duke of Rothesay was with her.

"Why am I here, Mama?" lisped the Duke of Rothesay.

"You're going to see your Uncle of England," Margaret told him.

"Why aren't Alexander and Elizabeth here too?"

"Your Uncle requested you especially. Your Aunt Catherine will greet us there. Uncle Henry is busy at war with France. He'll join us a little later. You won't be lonely in England. You have cousins there that are willing to play with you! Do you remember Aunt Mary? She and Uncle Charles have a son called Henry around your age. Uncle Henry and Aunt Catherine also have a daughter called Mary around your age! And then there's all those other cousins in England!"

"Mary's a girl."

"James! You can play with a girl!"

"Girls are no fun!"

"You don't know that! You're only three! If you don't want to play with Mary, you can play with your other English _male_ cousins. James darling, you'll have to marry a girl someday. I'm hoping you can marry a pretty English Tudor Princess around your age. Alas, plans change over time. That's why you're coming with me to England. If everything goes well, you'll be betrothed to Princess Mary, and she'll come with us back to Scotland."

The Duke of Rothesay brightened up at that prospect.

He knew he'll marry eventually, and liked the thought of being a husband.

He had went with Margaret a couple of months ago to France, and liked the looks of a couple of young Valois Princesses. A French alliance isn't what Margaret wanted, so no betrothal was made, and here they were again, travelling to another close kingdom.

Little James saw a group of Englishmen ride towards them.

"Charles," said Margaret warmly.

"Your Majesty," said Charles, bowing. "Your Royal Highness. His Majesty, the King of England, is unfortunately away on battle. Her Majesty, the Queen of England, is ready to meet you at Richmond Palace any time you're ready."

"We'll go straight away."

"Very well. If you'll follow me?"

"Oh, Charles! I missed England so much! I'm sure I know the way to Richmond!"

"His Majesty of England had changed quite a bit of the Palace. I'm sure you'll find it a changed palace when you arrive."

The Scottish and English parties rode off to Richmond Palace.

Catherine was waiting for them.

With her were Princess Mary and the Prince of Wales.

Princess Mary and the Duke of Rothesay viewed each other with suspicion. Princess Mary knew she was betrothed twice as an infant, to the Duke of Bourbon and the Duke of Alencon. None of those marriages had fallen through.

Now it looked like the Duke of Rothesay will be her future husband.

_She's pretty,_ thought little James._ I don't like the fiery look of her eyes though. My uncle always said that a King should have a docile wife, not a domineering one. I'll tell Mama later. I don't want to marry Mary. I want to marry someone else. I want to marry a prettier girl. Mary isn't pretty enough for my taste at all. Papa will understand._

"Margaret!" said Catherine warmly. "Welcome back to England!"

Little James remembered that his mother was English.

Of course she would want an English alliance…

Margaret couldn't imagine Catherine speaking English so well (with a tint of a Spanish accent), and in such a homely, majestic fashion!

"Catherine," said Margaret pleasantly.

"That must be your oldest son," said Catherine, looking at the Prince of Scotland.

"Yes. This is James, the Duke of Rothesay, and Heir to Scotland. He's four. And those must be your eldest children, Mary and Henry?"

"Yes. Come in!"

"I hope this meeting goes well."

"Oh, Margaret! Don't view this as a meeting! Think of this as a family reunion without Henry. Will the Scottish nobles be staying too? Your chambers are prepared for you and your son. They'll be close to my chambers and away from the nursery."

Margaret wasn't as fond of children as Catherine was.

Smiling, Mary led her older sister into Richmond Palace.

Margaret felt annoyed.

The rest of her family are living happily in England (Mary even married an English nobleman!) while she had to suffer in Scotland. Even after many years of marriage, she still hadn't gotten used to the cold, bleary climate and the bland meal called oatmeal porridge.

For a split second, Margaret wanted a French alliance.

At least the French placed duty before love.

Margaret entered her chambers, and realised that she was given her old chambers before she left. She

ran her fingers across the shelves of her bookcases, and smiled.

Nothing had changed in her rooms.

Her basket of embroidery was still there.

Margaret was touched that Catherine and Henry VIII didn't change her rooms, and changed her mind about the French alliance. The only change was a small bed was placed next to her old bed. Little James would be sleeping there.

"What do you think?" said Mary, watching her.

"Thank you," Margaret murmured. "For leaving this room the same."

"Perhaps it's time to visit the children?"

"Why? You know I dislike going to nurseries."

"Your son can see a couple of cousins his own age. You might like to choose an English Princess for an alliance renewal. That's why you're here, isn't it? Catherine will be happy too! The nursery's one of her favourite places in every palace. Margaret, you'll have to get used to children anyway! Soon, your son will have children of his own and you'll have grandchildren! Grandchildren will be the delight of your life! Our grandmother didn't though."

"She didn't live to see the birth of any."

"Come on, Margaret!"

"Alright."

Mary happily led Margaret into the nursery, where her children and Catherine's children (with Lady Matilda) currently resided.

There were squeals and shrieks in the nursery.

Margaret frowned slightly.

Her own nursery in Scotland was more quiet, and none of the Scottish royal children would run around and shout for no particular reason.

The Prince of Wales was chasing his four year old sister around the nursery, and Princess Isabella was toddling unsteadily behind them. The Dukes of York and Lancaster were watching them from their cradles, laughing and clapping their hands, and the Princess Margaret was asleep. Mary's eldest son, the four year old Henry, the Earl of Lincoln, joined in the chase, and Princess Mary was joined in the run by Mary's eldest daughter, Lady Frances.

Mary's other two children (Lady Eleanor and Lord Charles) sat nearby and giggled.

Margaret shuddered.

What's wrong with her?

Henry VIII and Catherine had six healthy children and Mary had four!

She was pregnant at least six times, and that only resulted in three surviving children. Margaret grew frustrated and unhappy again.

Little James scowled when he saw Princess Mary.

He seemed to think that it's been already decided he'll marry her.

Margaret noticed that not all of Henry VIII's children have red hair.

Princess Mary had auburn hair, the Prince of Wales had red hair, Princess Isabella had brownish-auburn hair, the Duke of York had dark brown hair, the Duke of Lancaster had fair, flaxen hair and Princess Margaret had a tuft of light brown hair.

She felt something at her leg.

She looked down and saw that Princess Isabella had stumbled.

The Duke of Rothesay suddenly walked towards her and helped her up. Princess Isabella smiled at him and he smiled back.

Margaret smiled indulgently.

Unfortunately, she didn't like the idea of her son marrying the second daughter.

There was too much seriousness in little James.

He had inherited the Scottish aura of solemness. The boy was too sullen! If only he was more happier and pleasure loving like his Uncle Henry…

"Let's leave the children here," said Catherine calmly. "I'm sure you want to get the alliance work done as quickly as possible. That's why you're here, isn't it? I'm sure Henry won't mind if I conduct the meeting and agree on some sort of alliance with you. He won't mind at all, if there's good success in his campaign against the French."

Margaret followed Catherine into the meeting room with two Scottish nobles.

Wolsey was already waiting for them.

They took their places.

"I'm here to represent my husband, the King of Scots," began Margaret. "In his view, he wants an alliance renewal with England. For the security and well-being of both Scottish and Englishmen. And he wants to secure the Line of Succession for both countries, and the hope that there might be a chance when both kingdoms are unified to one."

"What are your terms?" inquired Catherine.

"Are you in agreement for a marital alliance renewal?"

"I am."

"Very well. To secure the borderline between England and Scotland, I would like an alliance between the Earl of Northumberland and the Earl of Moray. To keep the royal alliance, I'd like a marriage union between the Duke of Rothesay and an English Princess."

"Which Princess?"

"The Princess Mary Tudor of England."

Catherine felt uncomfortable.

She wanted the alliance, but this…

This was unexpected.

What was so special about Princess Mary that destined her to be Queen of Scots?

Catherine wanted her eldest daughter to be future Queen of Spain, not the Queen of Scotland, or even the Queen of France. When she was two, it had been her destiny to be Queen of England, and Catherine wanted her eldest daughter to have the same destiny, but in reverse. She wished fervently for Princess Mary to marry Charles, the Prince of Asturias instead of any other suitor. The Spanish Ambassador still hadn't returned from another journey to Flanders.

"Well?" said Margaret impatiently.

"I'll think about it," said Catherine quickly. "It'll need Henry VIII's consent of course."

"Yes. And the noblemen? Do they need consent too?"

"Not really. Why not a double alliance between Northumberland and Moray?"

"Good idea."

It was arranged that Lady Elizabeth Moray will marry Henry, Baron Percy (Heir to the earldom of Northumberland) and Lady Mary Percy will marry David, Lord Doune (Heir to the earldom of Moray) to secure the borders.

An hour later, Margaret asked again about Princess Mary.

"I don't know," said Catherine uneasily.

"You don't know," repeated Margaret.

"I need to check with Henry. Mary's our eldest, and I don't feel particularly comfortable with this arrangement. There's also the matter of the dowry…"

"Catherine dear, is it because you love her that much?"

"It's a mother's love-"

"It's duty over love! Don't you understand that?!"

Margaret was getting more upset than ever.

Catherine was taken back.

This was not how she expected the meeting to turn out.

"That's it," said Margaret promptly. "If you prefer your precious children over a precious alliance, this meeting is over. I'll arrange a meeting with the French and have an alliance with them. The Scottish nobles will be more than happy at that. At least the French keeps their promises and view duty over love. They have the decency to send their daughters away!"

Catherine was upset.

She knew that duty's more important than love, but couldn't help it.

Margaret was still furious at the fact that most of her family's in England (despite the fact that she had a

happy marriage) and she was the only child of Henry VII to be still in a political marriage while Mary married for love in England. Margaret hated how she was the only child of Henry VII to have inherited brown hair instead of the fiery red colour.

She stood up and marched out.

Wolsey hurried after her.

"Your Majesty!" he called.

Margaret turned around, her gown swishing with her.

"Wolsey," she said coldly. "What do you want? I'm in no mood to negotiate anymore with unhelpful Englishmen who cares more about love than duty. If you don't mind, I must depart for France with my son at once. For the good of Scotland."

"Your Majesty," Wolsey said again. "Please wait. Her Majesty of England misunderstood you. She has other daughters for the-"

"No. I'll only accept Princess Mary as the future Queen of Scots."

"Princess Isabella is only two years younger than the Duke of Rothesay-"

"No. Princess Mary, or no treaty."

"Her Majesty of England must consult the King of England on that matter. May I ask why you have a specific interest in the Princess Mary?"

"She's the eldest."

"I'm sorry, but I still-"

"You son of a butcher! I'm the oldest daughter of Henry VII and I was sent to Scotland! It's only fair that the oldest daughter of Henry VIII marries my son and gets sent to Scotland when she's fourteen! They are my only terms!"

Wolsey watched her hurry off.

He had been called 'son of a butcher' a numerous amount of times.

None of it bothered him.

Wolsey was confident (while Catherine was not) that Margaret will rethink the English alliance and come back running.

This time, he would be the one that lays the terms.

* * *

**Another chapter on the way! Did I make Margaret a little too cruel and angry? :) Let me know what you think of it! :)**


	6. Chapter VI

Chapter VI

**September, 1514**

The French campaign was going well for Henry VIII and his troops and an utter disaster for the French, under Francis I.

By August, Blois, Champagne, Amboise and Rouen had fell to England.

It felt like another Battle of Agincourt.

In September, the French felt no choice but to negotiate a treaty with England. Francis I and Henry VIII met in Calais to discuss terms of the treaty. Henry VIII had written the good news to Catherine, feeling very pleased with himself.

"Francis," said Henry VIII smugly.

"Henry," murmured Francis I.

"I heard that you'd like to have a treaty between France and England to stop little pieces of France being taken away, eh?"

"Oui. That is true."

"My terms are harsh."

"Oui."

"If you break any of the terms, there will be severe consequences."

"Oui."

"You will yield the captured fiefs to me, as well as surrender Normandy to me. Your son will be given to me for a time of safe keeping, and will eventually marry my third daughter, Margaret. Your second daughter, Charlotte, will marry my son and Heir. You'll also pay me fifty thousand florins as Charlotte's dowry and part of the treaty. If you don't agree to this, my English troops will keep fighting against you and we'll keep taking fiefs from France."

"Can you at least lower the dowry?"

"Why's that?"

"Forty thousand?"

"Forty thousand five hundred and that's the lowest I'll go."

Without much options, Francis I gave in.

Henry VIII was triumphant.

The campaign had only lasted five months, and he extended England's territory extensively. He had even retrieved Normandy, which was lost to France in the reign of King John. He sent a messenger to tell Catherine the good news.

A week later, Henry VIII left for England with Francois, the Dauphin of France, his noble French prisoners, twenty thousand and five hundred florins and his English troops. France was left in a terrible state of affairs. The French treasury was almost empty and many French towns were burnt and massacred and left in an almost dilapidated state.

Henry VIII was received with great pomp.

His name was cheered by the English wherever he went.

He was another warrior King.

In fact, the people loved Henry VIII more than Henry V, who they traditionally viewed as the warrior King of England.

Henry VIII was compared to William I 'the Conqueror' of England.

Henry VIII was a family man, and loved his family and treated them with love, instead of treating them like pawns on his political chessboard. He was the issue of the royal lines of Lancaster and York and married the daughter of the Catholic Monarchs. He already had six children (three sons, three daughters) and proved his fertility. He had also recently came back from war and extended English territory and recovered Normandy.

"Catherine," said Henry VIII warmly.

Catherine squealed with joy and embraced him fiercely.

That made the crowds of people cheer more wildly.

"Your letter seemed to real to be true!" said Catherine happily. "You won so many French towns and provinces! I'm so happy for you! You're like Their Majesties of Spain! I have plenty of news to tell you, and I am sure that you have plenty of news for me! Come! Let's go in! I have organised a small, private feast for you, me and the Duke and Duchess of Suffolk!"

Henry VIII smiled uneasily.

He had news for his wife, but it isn't particularly good news.

The King allowed himself to be led in.

The feast went well, and when it came to time for talking, Henry VIII grew uncomfortable. He didn't want to see Catherine hurt.

"How was Margaret?" he inquired.

"Not well," sighed Catherine. "She didn't stay long in England."

"What happened?"

"She wanted our Mary to marry the Heir of Scots. She was very insistent and declared that the alliance will only be made if Mary marries her son. None of our other daughters will do. Even Wolsey failed to convince her to change her mind."

"Oh dear."

"She went straight back to Scotland after that."

"That's unlike Margaret…"

"How was France?"

"What?"

"How was the battles?"

"It went well. I won the places I mentioned in the letter. And I got England more money! Even the Conqueror couldn't have done better than I did! I also have the Dauphin of France with me. What shall we do with him?"

"How old is the little boy?"

"He's still a baby."

"Why Henry! I'm surprised at you! You took a baby from his parents! Poor Claude! She must be devastated! You must give him back."

"Why? He's betrothed to our little Margaret."

"He's the future King of France."

"Then it's excellent for me."

"How?"

"If the Dauphin is raised in England, he'll be pro-English by the time he reaches his teenage years. He might even allow me to be Regent when he's away from war. Who knows? Maybe he'll live in England with our Margaret instead of our Margaret moving to France with him. Who knows? Maybe one day France and England might merge into one kingdom."

"No, Henry. Give him back."

"I'll feel like an idiot!"

"Trade him."

"For what?"

"Princesses Charlotte and Louise of France, and the future Duke of Orleans. Let the second son be pro-English, but not the Heir."

Henry VIII was silent.

Catherine had a point.

"Very well," he said finally. "I'll write to the King of France. I also have news for you. I think it's bad news for you, I don't know."

"What is it?" said Catherine quietly.

"During the campaign, when I was in the French Court, I fell in love with a French maid. It was more of a passion. I'm sorry Catherine! I really am! I don't know what I was thinking, but we consummated the night, and she's now pregnant."

"With your child?"

"Yes. I'm sorry! I really am!"

"Where is this woman? You couldn't have left her all by herself in France! The French will arrest her and kill her for sleeping with the King of England! There's also her child to consider. Do you know anything about this French maid you slept with? Perhaps we can make her more comfortable in my household as a maid for the time being. She might not have to stay in England, but until the birth of the child, I'll insist she stays in England."

Henry VIII stared at her, surprised.

"You can't be serious," he said, still shocked.

"I am," replied Catherine. "Imagine it was me in your mistress's position right now. Would you let me be humiliated in Court?"

"She's pregnant with my bastard, Cate!"

"Acknowledge the child after it's born. He or she can join Matilda."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure!"

"Cate. I feel bad. It seems I have two families. One with you and the other with my bastards. I can't believe you can accept them like this! The woman's French! No one would want a French maid! Are you sure you want it?"

"Maybe she can teach the children French."

Henry stared at her in disbelief.

"You're amazing," he said, kissing her. "You're just amazing."

* * *

Five months later, Henry VIII received news that he had another bastard daughter. Secretly, he was relieved that it was a girl.

There was the decision of what to name the baby.

The names Catherine and Elizabeth were out of the question…

A name flashed in his mind.

I just won bits of France a couple of months ago, mused Henry VIII. And now this child is half-English and half-French. I got the perfect name!

He decided to name his new bastard Victoire.

The French version of Victoria.

When Henry VIII told his friends what he named his new illegitimate child, all of them roared with laughter at the irony of the name. Henry VIII had thoughtfully wrote a letter to Francis I, telling him of the news as well.

The French Court didn't receive the humour of it.

Like his first illegitimate child, Henry VIII acknowledged Victoire.

She became known as the Lady Victoire Tudor.

Catherine was more pleased at the state of affairs than before.

Henry VIII had sent the Dauphin back to France, and received the Princesses Louise and Charlotte and the promise of the future Duke of Orleans at Calais. Queen Claude of France had came with them to say goodbye to her daughters and speak to Catherine. She knew it was her duty to have sons, but she was very fond of her daughters. Francis I had agreed in switching his daughters for his son without consulting her, and she was upset at that.

"Look after them," said Claude softly. "Please."

"I will," Catherine promised.

Claude had a sad childhood and teenage years.

Her mother Anne, the Duchess of Brittany, had married the previous King of France and had numerous pregnancies which resulted in two daughters.

Claude and her younger sister, Renee.

Claude had been forced to marry Francis I (he was the Count of Angouleme at that time) and had to accept his infidelities without much fuss.

Now she would lose two of her children.

Catherine truly felt sorry for the unloved Claude of France.

"I'll take care of them," Catherine told Claude. "I'll treat them like they're my own children. They won't be neglected at all. I promise you."

Claude seemed much happier than she was when she arrived at Calais.

On that day, Henry VIII was in a very good mood. He was pleased that the French kept their promise and sent the Princesses to him as hostages.

Francis I had also agreed to give them into his custody.

Henry VIII had began planning marriages for them at once.

He arranged for Louise to marry the Earl of Lincoln and Charlotte to marry the Prince of Wales, both royals of the House of Tudor.

Francis I was naturally unhappy at that.

He was enraged that his eldest daughter will marry an Earl, not a Prince.

Claude wrote to Catherine, pleading for a better marriage for Louise.

Catherine was heavily pregnant at that time.

She decided that she'll plead on behalf of the Queen of France after the birth of her child. If it's a boy, it would make the pleading much easier. A girl, she'll have to plead eloquently. Catherine received a letter from her father, Ferdinand II of Aragon.

He chided her for being friendly with the French.

Spain and France had been enemies for years.

Just as much as the hostility between England and France.

Catherine knew that her Spanish and English families would highly disapprove of her pleading on the French Queen's behalf. They all hated France, and Catherine knew that if Margaret was the Queen of England, she would treat the Princesses of France as prisoners and with contempt. She would make them suffer badly. She would probably marry them off to noblemen, or keep them spinsters or at the most, send them to a nunnery.

In early March, Catherine gave birth to a son.

There was rejoicing in England.

Claude had given birth a couple of days later, to a boy.

There was no rejoicing in France.

Without even naming the baby Duke of Orleans, Francis I arranged a meeting in Calais where he handed the baby over to Henry VIII.

Gleefully, Henry VIII named him after himself.

Prince Henri, the Duke of Orleans.

Of course the French weren't particularly happy at that, but they could do nothing about it. Francis I mourned the diplomatic loss of his second son, but did nothing about it. Instead, he planned a future campaign to retrieve Milan.

"Let's name our baby William," decided Henry VIII.

"After the Conqueror?" guessed Catherine.

"Of course! Our little William will be the Duke of Clarence! He and the Duke of Orleans will be the best of friends when they grow up!"

"I want to talk about Princess Louise."

"What about her?"

"Her future marriage to the Earl of Lincoln."

"It's a fine marriage. I couldn't make one any better than that for a French hostage! The Earl of Lincoln's even royal! My nephew even! I would arrange for both Princesses to marry two of our sons, but it'll be a waste of alliances. Mary doesn't mind that her son will marry a French Princess! She'll probably be delighted in it! Her children will most likely marry noblemen of England, and here's an opportunity she wouldn't miss! A royal marriage!"

"Can you give them a royal title at least?"

"Why?"

"It won't be viewed as a mesalliance marriage by any King."

"Good point. I need allies in general. Our Mary's five. It's about time a firm betrothal is made for her once and for all!"

"The titles?"

"I'll give all of Mary's children the title of Prince and Princess of Suffolk, and give Charles and Mary the

title of Royal Duke and Duchess of Suffolk. That ought to make the French pleased! Their daughter will be the future Countess of Lincoln, and later the Royal Duchess of Suffolk! Their other daughter will be the future Princess of Wales and perhaps Queen of England!"

"Very well. I'll inform Queen Claude."

"That would be wise."

"How's Lady Victoire?"

"She's well, I suppose. I'll need to check with her nursemaids. Why?"

"Lady Victoire's mother had died a couple of weeks after her birth, and she'll never know her French mother. She'll be raised in England, and will probably never see her mother's homeland again. She'll be forever known as the King's Bastard."

"Don't fret, Cate. She'll see France."

"What?"

"I'm thinking of going to the English part of France. Maybe I'll take a couple of children with me. You know, a walk of triumph."

Catherine smiled.

She had more news for Henry VIII.

"My sister Joanna I, wants to come to England," she told him. "She wants to see my children and form an alliance with England. She says that if you allow her to come, she'll bring her eldest son with her to see what happens."

"Archduke Charles is five older than Mary," Henry VIII pointed out. "Wouldn't Archduke Ferdinand be a better husband for her?"

"Mary will be future Queen of Spain if she marries Charles, and only an Archduchess if she marries Ferdinand. Five years difference is nothing."

"Alright. If you say so."

"Can they come to England?"

"Of course! I'll organise a couple of tournaments and a feast for them! It's not everyday that the Queen of Castile comes to England with her son! Once your father dies, your sister will be Queen of Spain! He doesn't need to worry about heirs of Spain anymore. Joanna has plenty of children, and I'm sure your other sister Maria does too! Perhaps we shall name our next daughter after the Queen of Castile. Your sister might like that."

"Thank you Harry! Thank you!"

Henry VIII was happy.

He loved it when Catherine called him 'Harry'.

Secretly, he wanted his next daughter named after his mother, Elizabeth of York, but Catherine had accepted his two bastards without complaint and named four of their seven children after people he wanted to be reminded of.

Catherine studied him for a moment.

"You don't really want that," she said a little later.

"What?" said Henry VIII, startled. "Of course I want a daughter called Joanna!"

"No you don't. You just want one named Joanna to make me happy. You really want a daughter named after your mother."

"How do you know?!"

"Henry. I know you too well. We'll name our next daughter Elizabeth, and the one after that Joanna. Is that fair to you?"

Henry VIII kissed her.

After a while, they went to the nursery.

All of their children had the place of their births attached to their names.

_Mary of Placentia,_ thought Henry VIII. _Henry of Beaulieu, Isabella of Woodstock, Richard and Arthur of Eltham, Margaret of Windsor and William of Beaumont. Where would the next one be born? How much children will I have with Catherine?_

"Father!" cried Princess Mary. "Didn't see you in ages!"

Laughing, Henry VIII picked her up and swung her in the air. Princess Mary squealed with joy. Catherine

knew that even though Harry's the son who Henry VIII loved, Princess Mary's the one he loved more than any son or daughter in the nursery.

Princess Mary laughed and played with the jewels on his doublet.

Catherine had to admit she loved little Mary the most as well!

Henry VIII placed Princess Mary back on the ground and carried Harry in the air. The little boy wasn't as fun-loving as his sister.

The Prince of Wales wasn't as healthy as his elder sister.

He was paler and more serious.

A bit too serious for Henry VIII's taste.

"How's my boy today?" said Henry VIII, placing Harry back on the ground. "Are you feeling well to go horse riding today? Do you want to play a game of cards with Papa? What does the little Prince want to do with me today?"

"Nothing!" said Harry loudly.

Henry VIII laughed boisterously.

He wished Harry would have more spirit; he had inherited too much Spanish seriousness and sense of duty from Catherine.

Henry VIII bounced Princess Mary on his knee.

"You're getting heavy for Papa," he told her.

"Me heavy!" said Princess Mary happily.

"Someday you won't be able to sit on Papa's lap anymore. What's that you're playing with? Look what your Papa got you!"

"Jewel pretty!"

"This is prettier!"

"Jewel still prettier! Ooh! That pretty!"

Henry VIII had produced the circlet Norfolk gave her for her first birthday.

She was too young to wear earrings, but no one can be too young to wear a circlet.

Henry VIII weaved the circlet into her hair and played with her reddish-auburn ringlets. Even though she was five, Princess Mary was reckoned to be the most beautiful Princess in all of Christendom. She was a worthy prize of England.

A worthy prize indeed.

* * *

**I'll see ya all next week with another chapter or two (depending on the number of reviews-remember the review formula?)! :)**


	7. Chapter VII

Chapter VII

**July, 1515**

There was a great deal of bustling around Richmond Palace. Servants and cooks ran all around, trying to get things ready for the visit of the Queen of Castile.

Catherine was more than excited.

She hadn't seen her sister in six years.

It had been arranged that Joanna I would go to England with her two sons, ten year old Charles and eight year old Ferdinand. Her daughters (eleven year old Eleanora, nine year old Isabel, seven year old Maria and six year old Catalina) were left in Castile in the safe keeping of Joanna I's sister-in-law, Archduchess Margaret of Austria, Dowager Duchess of Savoy.

Catherine and Henry VIII would meet them with two children.

Princess Mary and the Prince of Wales.

With them was four year old Archduchess Catharina of Austria.

The little Archduchess's parents were Infanta Joana of Portugal and Philip of Burgundy's younger brother, Archduke Franz of Austria.

Both of her parents died of the Bubonic Plague when she was a year old, and she was taken into the custody of Philip of Burgundy and Joanna of Castile. Basically she was raised with her cousins and her elder brother, Archduke Johann. Archduke Johann was ill with fever, and couldn't go to England with his sister and two cousins.

"Juana," said Catherine warmly. "Welcome to England."

"Catalina!" said Joanna happily. "I'm so happy to see you again!"

"I see that you brought two of your lovely children with you! Would you and them come inside the palace? We've organised entertainment for you!"

"Of course! We'll talk inside?"

"Yes. I'm sure you know Henry VIII?"

"Yes. Hello Enrique. These are my sons, Carlos and Fernando."

Charles and Ferdinand looked suspiciously at Henry VIII.

Charles knew he would be King of Spain one day, and it's always good to view other Kings with suspicion, and to never trust them.

The Spanish party was quickly ushered into the palace.

Ferdinand wasn't as suspicious as Charles.

He knew that he won't be King of Spain or ruler of the dominions that will be owned by Charles. He knew that as the second son, he won't be very important in politics at the moment. He might later on, but not at the very moment.

To Catherine's delight, her other sister Maria, Queen of Portugal, had also came to England with her husband, Manuel I of Portugal.

The English citizens were pleased to see Catherine happy.

If she's happy, they're happy.

At the feast, Henry VIII watched indulgently while Joanna, Maria and Catherine spoke amongst themselves in rapid Spanish. He couldn't understand much, but was pleased Catherine was so happy. She hadn't been that happy in many days. He glanced at the children's table a little away from the high table, and was surprised to see Charles and Princess Mary conversing quite well in Spanish. Little Harry was even attempting to talk to Ferdinand.

_Mary's happy,_ thought Henry VIII. _I guess she'll be happy to marry him._

Henry VIII hoped Charles wouldn't be like his deceased father.

Philip of Burgundy was very unfaithful to Joanna when he was alive, and sired many illegitimate children in whom he hardly ever acknowledged.

He wanted his daughters to have good husbands.

Once the feast was over, the children were sent to bed.

"I'm glad you can come," said Henry VIII pleasantly. "It's good to see Catherine's sisters in person! I also propose we settle alliances know that we're all here. I'm sure alliances between Spain, England and Portugal will be well for our kingdoms. We all have many children, and I'm sure marital alliances between the three kingdoms will safely secure the Lines of Succession and the alliances. I'm sure both of you are more trustworthy than France!"

Joanna laughed lightly.

"Very well," she agreed.

"I agree as well," said Manuel I, sipping some wine.

"Earlier on," said Joanna calmly. "I noticed that my Carlos and your Mary had talked quite a bit with each other. Why not arrange a marriage between them? I'm sure they'll view the marriage as a love match and have no complaints about it. I'm certain that a suitable dowry can be arranged, and the terms are reasonable enough."

Henry VIII nodded in agreement.

"What are the terms?" asked Catherine.

"Free trade between Spain and England," said Joanna at once. "No permits required. And England will support Spain and visa versa in wars only for defense purposes. No country would join another country's war which they started."

She had no intention of supporting Henry VIII's future war plans against France.

Henry VIII nodded in agreement.

He had no desire to help Spain conquer duchies in Italy.

"Let's add Austria to the treaty," suggested Joanna.

"What?" said Henry VIII, taken back.

"My brother-in-law, Archduke Franz of Austria had left his children in my care, and I think we can form an alliance on Austria's behalf. Why not your Prince of Wales marry Archduchess Catharina? Both Archduke Johann and Archduchess Catharina are entitled to their father's land, and parts of the Habsburg inheritance! Why not have free trade through Flanders, and Catharina can bring England Antwerp and Noyon as a dowry? That's if Catharina lives to a marriageable age. She and her brother aren't as healthy as other Archdukes and Archduchesses."

"What?! What good is a weak daughter-in-law for me?!"

"She might grow out of illness."

"But then again, Antwerp and Noyon are ideal…"

"What do you say, Enrique? To me it's a worthy alliance. The terms have benefits for both Spain, England and even Austria."

"Very well. How do I know you'll keep the promise?"

"I'll leave Archduchess Catharina behind. She'll be brought up as an Englishwoman and the future wife of the Prince of Wales. Once she and the Prince of Wales are married, I'll give you Noyon, and once they have their first child, I'll cede Antwerp to England."

"Good."

"How do I know _you'll _keep your promise?"

"Once Mary's fifteen, I'll send her to Spain personally. If I don't, I'll give you back Noyon with three thousand English pounds."

Joanna nodded with approval.

The Treaty of Richmond was signed by both Henry VIII and Joanna I.

They both agreed that the proxy marriages would be held once all the English, Austrian and Spanish ministers approved, and it'll be held once in England, once in Austria and once in Spain. Catherine was pleased that her eldest daughter will marry a Habsburg Prince.

Joanna retired to her chambers.

Henry VIII turned to Manuel I and Maria.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," he apologised.

"That's alright," said Manuel I, waving it aside. "I was enjoying this English supper. What are your terms and conditions of this treaty?"

"England doesn't get involved in any Portuguese wars or discoveries."

"And Portugal doesn't get involved with English affairs."

" Very well. And to seal the treaty, we will have a marriage between one of our children. I propose my daughter Margaret, to marry one of the Infantes of Portugal. What do you say, Manuel? A nice way to cement an alliance between Portugal and England, eh? Who knows? The last time England and Portugal had a treaty, it went well for both kingdoms! Philippa of Lancaster and John I of Portugal had five famous children! Remember?"

"I remember well. They are my ancestors."

"Of course."

"Your Princess Margaret can be betrothed to Infante Alfonso, my second son. Unfortunately, my eldest is already betrothed to Princess Eleanor of Navarre, I'm not one to break betrothals. I'm sure you understand what I mean."

Henry VIII was silent.

He had hoped for all his daughters to marry Kings!

Not a second son…

Manuel I was clearly more sly and watchful than Joanna of Castile!

"Very well," agreed Henry VIII. "I accept your terms. As I said to Her Majesty of Castile, I'll send Margaret to Portugal once she's fifteen. If our ministers agree to this, of course. I'm sure a suitable dowry can be agreed on later."

Manuel I nodded in agreement.

He was very tired.

He was tired of England, and wanted to return to Portugal.

* * *

"What did you think?" said Henry VIII, later that night.

"Think?" questioned Catherine.

"How good was I as a diplomat? Did I do well? I arranged for two of our daughters to marry into foreign, royal houses for the good of England!"

"You did well. I'm proud to call you my husband."

"Really?!"

"Yes, Harry. What will you do about the French affair? You promised that our Prince Harry will marry Princess Charlotte of France, and now you agreed with Joanna that our Prince Harry will marry her niece by marriage, Archduchess Catharina of Austria! France is in no place to negotiate well, but what will you do about this? You can't leave it as it is!"

"You're right…Isabella is too old for the Duke of Orleans…"

"How about the Dauphin? She's a year older than him."

"Good point. Perhaps I'll arrange that instead."

"Why not both Louise and Charlotte marry Princes of Suffolk? That won't bring the French closer to the English Throne and it secures a treaty!"

"You're amazing, Cate."

Henry VIII was thoughtful.

He had an idea that Princess Margaret could marry the Duke of Orleans instead of Infante Alfonso of Portugal. The French are more rascals than the Portuguese. Catherine wouldn't be happy at that, but it could be a wise move.

For once, he wished he had another daughter.

She would solve all his problems.

"The Portuguese and Spanish parties will be leaving tomorrow," Catherine murmured. "To finalise the betrothal plans."

She sounded a little sad.

"Mary can visit us any day once she's married!" Henry VIII consoled.

"I'm not worried about that," said Catherine, sniffling. "I'm worried when to tell Mary. My parents didn't tell me until I was ten. I thought it would be ages until I leave Spain. I don't want to get too attached to her and not want her to leave."

"Catherine, Mary'll be the Queen of Spain! Isn't that what you want?"

"It feels like I'll never see her again!"

"Catherine! It's maternal feelings! Mary should know right from the start that she'll be Queen of Spain

one day, and will have a good married life."

"What if it doesn't go through?"

"What do you mean?"

"What if the Spanish Cortes refuse to allow this marriage to proceed?! Mary would feel that she's been lied to! I don't want our daughter to think of us as liars! The Spanish Cortes are very suspicious and will demand a high dowry!"

"Don't worry. It'll all go through."

Henry VIII himself wasn't confident at the outcome.

Catherine was right.

What if the Spanish Cortes refuse the match?

It's always been Catherine's wish to have Mary married to the King of Spain. If the marriage doesn't go through, she'll be devastated.

"I'll figure something out," promised Henry VIII.

Catherine smiled thinly.

If Princess Mary can't marry Charles, the Prince of Asturias, everything's over.

"Manuel's a sly fellow," said Henry VIII, changing the topic a little.

"Yes," agreed Catherine. "Making our Margaret marry a second son! Margaret deserves better than to marry a second son! My late mother always trusted Manuel, but now he seems for suspicious and looking for the good of Portugal. I don't think this alliance with Portugal is a good idea. It might cause a couple of little problems between England and Portugal."

Henry VIII nodded in agreement.

He wanted a King for Princess Margaret.

He had second thoughts of reopening negotiations with Scotland.

He'd rather his daughter have a nasty mother-in-law when she becomes Queen, rather than a kind-hearted mother-in-law when she becomes a Princess of a different kingdom. Henry VIII was ambitious in his own individual ways.

Catherine would be shocked if she knew about this.

The only person he could confide in was the Duke of Suffolk.

* * *

It too nine months for negotiations with Austria, Portugal and Spain to close up. They were all successful, to Henry VIII's delight.

He was only uncomfortable with the Portuguese treaty.

Henry VIII wasn't pleased his daughter will marry a young Infante, not the Heir.

The good news was that Catherine had successfully given birth to a daughter, whom she named Elizabeth, after Henry VIII's mother.

Little Elizabeth was betrothed the day she was born.

The Spanish Cortes had approved of Henry VIII a couple of months before.

In fact, they didn't hesitate in agreeing to a double marriage.

It had been decided that Princess Mary will marry the Prince of Asturias and become future Queen of Spain, while Elizabeth will marry Infante Ferdinand, who will succeed as Holy Roman Emperor. Both dowries will be the same, equal amount. Prince Harry was engaged to Archduchess Catharina of Austria, who upon marriage, will change her name to Katharine.

Henry VIII was still doubtful of Infante Alfonso for Princess Margaret.

Two of her sisters will marry Kings, and she won't.

He was really hoping for a Scottish alliance.

To his delight, James IV wanted another treaty.

Queen Margaret returned to England.

She hadn't been happy the last time she went back to England, and still wasn't pleased to be the ambassador of Scotland.

"Can't you send your brother?" complained Margaret.

"Margaret," said James IV weakly. "Your brother's the King of England. It'll make negotiations much

easier for England and Scotland. Your brother doesn't know my brother well. Their negotiations might end in disaster. I'm doing my part in trying to live through this illness. Can you put aside your family hate and please do this for Scotland?"

At the end, Margaret agreed.

She did it with the utmost reluctance.

"Margaret!" said Henry VIII happily. "I'm so happy to see you in England! I'm glad James IV sent you instead of his brother! Come in!"

Margaret forced herself to smile and was led to the nursery.

She noticed at once that Princess Mary grew.

The Princess's hair still had small ringlets, which was strikingly attractive on her, and her blue eyes sparkled beautifully. Margaret knew at once, that Princess Mary was the perfect wife for her eldest son, and a future Queen of Scots.

"What would you like to discuss?" asked Henry VIII.

"You have pretty children," Margaret commented.

"Ah! You noticed! What do you think?"

"Catherine must've went through many pregnancies."

"Every woman suffers and gets rewarded with a bonny baby."

"Not every woman. Who's that little girl over there? Looks more Catherine, but I never saw her in the nursery before!"

"That is Archduchess Catharina of Austria."

"Why do you have an Austrian Archduchess in your nursery?"

"She's the future bride of the Prince of Wales."

Margaret's lips tightened.

She had wanted her daughter (Elizabeth of Scotland) to be Queen of England, so she could extract her revenge on the English. Her younger daughter (Princess Joan of Scotland) was born in 1514, and that disappointed Margaret.

She had hoped for another son.

"An Austrian Princess of Wales?" said Margaret doubtfully.

"What about it?" said Henry VIII defensively.

"Will the English accept an Austrian Queen consort? They've accepted the French, Scottish, Spanish and even German, but Austrian?"

"Why do you care?"

"I was thinking-"

"That your daughter marry the Prince of Wales?"

"That-"

"Margaret, I know you too well. Unfortunately, you're too late."

Margaret flushed and said nothing.

"If you want, we can arrange for one of my daughters to marry the Duke of Rothesay," Henry VIII offered. "That'll still secure the Anglo-Scottish alliance renewal. Come on Margaret! You don't want to go back to Scotland with no successful results, now do you? Margaret, I'm sure we can find an English Princess to satisfy the Scottish needs."

Grudgingly, Margaret agreed.

She glanced at the English Tudor Princesses.

"Mary," she decided.

"Sorry," said Henry VIII apologetically. "She's betrothed to the Prince of Asturias. It's been arranged with the consent of England and Spain."

"Why am I not surprised? Catherine's choice?"

"How do you know?"

"Maternal instinct. I presume Princess Isabella is betrothed too?"

"Um, no."

"Good. I want an alliance between England and Scotland, and Princess Isabella and my eldest son will cement the treaty. My terms are simple; the children of Princess Isabella and the Duke of Rothesay have higher precedence than the children of Princess Mary, and are in a higher position of the Line of Succession of the Throne of England."

"That's simple?"

"It's not difficult. The dowry will be lesser too."

"Margaret, I can't just write a succession act, declaring Mary's children in a lower place of the succession behind her younger sister! The Spanish will be furious and declare war on England! Besides, I don't think she'll have a good chance of being Queen of England either. Catherine and I have four sons, and they come first, remember?"

"Before you had children, I was your heiress presumptive!"

"Margaret, I don't understand-"

Margaret turned away, tears appearing in her eyes.

She didn't want Henry VIII to see her cry.

"It'll be alright," said Henry VIII hastily. "I'll arrange that straight away. Isabella will be betrothed to your son, and everything will be sorted out. Don't cry. Everything will be alright. Isabella and her descendants will get higher precedence than Mary."

Margaret was satisfied.

She knew deep inside, that Henry VIII won't keep his promise.

"When I leave for Scotland," said Margaret briskly. "I want to take Isabella with me. She's four years old, and still young enough to be raised in the same household as my son. They can learn their lessons together, know each other before marriage, and who knows? Maybe their marriage will be a love match when they're older."

"What?" said Henry VIII, taken back.

"I want to take Isabella with me."

"I'm sorry, but that just won't work. Catherine will be devastated!"

"All your daughters will leave you eventually. This'll make things easier. Isabella can visit you any time you want her to!"

Henry VIII bit his lip.

This was not going to plan…

* * *

**So...what do you think? :) Does it match your standards? :)**


	8. Chapter VIII

Chapter VIII

**June, 1516**

Catherine wasn't pleased when she was informed of Margaret's intentions. She didn't want to see her second daughter leave England.

Henry VIII tried to reason with her.

"Scotland's not far from England!" he said desperately.

"No," said Catherine stubbornly. "I agree with the alliance, but I won't have Isabella leave England when she's younger than Mary. And the succession matter is unheard of! If Margaret wants to declare war on that little matter, let her!"

"Scotland's closer than Spain!"

"No, Henry. I put my foot down on this matter."

"Come, Cate-"

"No. Margaret is Queen of Scotland, not England."

"She's my sister!"

"You can't use our children as pawns on another King's chessboard! It's unheard of! If Margaret wants our Isabella to marry the Duke of Rothesay, she'll have to wait until Isabella's fifteen. I won't allow her to be raised in a cold country that might attack us at anytime. I know Margaret's your sister, Henry, but I just can't consent to allowing our daughter to be placed in Margaret's hands! I don't trust her! I trust Mary, but not Margaret. I'm sorry, but that's the truth."

Henry VIII sighed.

He was getting no where.

Both Margaret and Catherine are stubborn as mules.

He went to the gardens and saw Charles playing with Princesses Mary, Isabella, Frances and Eleanor under a tree on a picnic blanket.

Henry VIII had hoped to see Harry out in the sun, but apparently he wasn't.

"Papa!" cried Princess Mary, jumping into his arms.

"Ah! You're getting heavy for Papa!" chuckled Henry VIII. "Soon Papa can't hold you anymore! What is my little Pearl doing today with her little sister and cousins? I see you're a sly, enchanting Princess! You have lured the Duke of Suffolk into joining you in your little game! Tell me Pearl. What are you lot doing today in the gardens?"

"Making daisy chains!"

"Does Isabella know how to make them?"

"Yes! Me and Frances taught her!"

"Is the Duke of Suffolk doing that too?"

"Yes! Me and Frances taught him how to make a daisy chain too! See the one he's wearing? That's the one Frances and I made!"

Henry VIII laughed when he saw Charles wearing a daisy chain on his head.

Clearly, it was too small for his neck and head.

He had always said that Charles had a big head.

The daisy chain rested on top of his head.

"Where's Harry?" said Henry VIII lightly.

"Inside," said Princess Mary, placing a daisy chain on top of Henry VIII's head. "He said he didn't want to come out and play with us today. He has other cousins to play with. He seems to be spending a lot of time with Catharina though."

Henry VIII smiled.

It's good that Harry's spending a lot of time with his future bride.

He still didn't know about Catherine and Norfolk's betrothal agreement.

He wished that Harry inherited more from him than Catherine. He wanted to see a son doing what he did in his childhood.

Henry VIII wanted a full English-spirited son.

A son with the desire to conquer France and has the love of sports.

Henry VIII remembered when he was younger, he loved to watch jousting tournaments and play all the

sports he could play. There was his health to consider. He was only the Duke of York, but the Tudor dynasty was weak at that time, and his health was valued greatly at all times. Now the dynasty was fully secure, he hoped Harry would be more interested in sports like he was. So far, it wasn't happening. Young Harry still disliked sports as he always did.

He grew a little uneasy at that thought.

What if he becomes friends with the French?

_No,_ Henry VIII assured himself. _That'll never happen._

The more he thought about it, the more he got nasty thoughts that his son and heir will reverse his laws (like he did to his father) and would be good friends with the French, and perhaps return the land he conquered from France.

"You know Catharina?" he said to Princess Mary.

Princess Mary nodded.

"She'll be Queen of England one day," Henry VIII told her. "She'll marry Harry and he'll be King of England one day. That's why Catharina will be Queen. Don't worry, My Pearl, you'll be a Queen one day like Catharina."

"Queen of England?" said Princess Mary hopefully.

"No! Catharina will be Queen of England!"

"How about me?!"

"You'll be Queen of Spain."

"I don't want to. I want to be Queen of England!"

"Catharina will be Queen of England. Spain's a good country. You'll be a great Queen of Spain! You'll be the English ambassador in Spain! Mama wants you to marry into Spain. She's Spanish before marrying me, and you want Mama to be happy, don't you? You'll meet your Aunt Joanna and other Spanish relatives when you're in Spain. They'll love you just as much as Papa and Mama do in England! You'll hardly miss us in Spain! You'll have fun there!"

"I don't want to leave England!"

"Margaret will go with you!"

"Margaret's only two! She's no fun!"

"Mary! I'm sure she's just as scared as you are! Think about it this way; you'll be Queen of Spain, and she'll only be a Princess of Portugal!"

Princess Mary seemed satisfied.

She pulled Henry VIII over to the picnic blanket.

* * *

Catherine received the physicians in her chambers.

"Your Majesty," one began. "I congratulate you on your fertility. Not every Queen has the gift of surviving childbirth and having a child once a year. My fellow physicians and I have decided to consult each other and tell you some news."

"Yes?" said Catherine, listening.

"You should stop having children."

"What?! It's a Queen's duty to have children!"

"You have already proved your fertility, and passed the requirement of having an heir and a spare. You had also given England many daughters. For your health, I suggest this to be your last child. If the King needs to know, you should tell him. We consulted physicians from Spain and Portugal, and discovered that your late mother-"

"You don't know her!"

"She had five surviving children. You have eight."

"Philippa of Hainault had twelve children!"

"The Lady Philippa of Hainault was Flemish, Your Majesty. Flemish women have good bodies for having children, not slender Spanish Princesses."

"I beg your pardon?! I'm fine having children! I still have the same figure and physique as I did when I first started having children! There's nothing wrong with me! I'm perfectly capable of giving birth to children, and I intend to do it until I can't have anymore children! It's a Queen's duty to have children, and that I will do!"

"Your Majesty!"

Catherine was annoyed.

She hated being told what to do, especially by her physicians. She had a hidden reason why she must continue having children.

The only person she could confide in was Mary Tudor.

Maria de Salinas had married a couple of years ago.

She had married William Willoughby, the 11th Baron Willoughby de Eresby.

In 1514, she had given birth to a girl.

She named her Katherine (after Queen Catherine of course!), and had no child after Katherine. Upon marriage with Lord Willoughby, she received Grimsthorpe Castle as a gift by Henry VIII and Catherine, both who viewed her greatly. William wasn't disappointed in having a daughter, and was delighted when Catherine agreed to be godmother of Katherine Willoughby. In fact, Catherine was godmother to many daughters of noblemen.

Catherine wished Maria was at Court.

She went to see Mary.

"Hello Catherine," said Mary pleasantly. "Have you seen Charles?"

"He was in the gardens with the children," Catherine replied. "I want to talk to you. Please don't tell the King about this."

"Okay. What is it?"

"I'm pregnant."

"Again?! What's the number? Eighth time?"

"Yes. My physicians said that I should stop having children after this one. I can't do that. Having children isn't enjoyable, but I love them all! Having eight children is nothing! I just can't help it. There's also another reason about this."

"What is it?"

"If I don't have children, I think Henry VIII will leave me."

"He won't! You're his lawful wife!"

"He'll be unfaithful to me like other Kings are. I can pretend not to care, but I do! He already has two bastard daughters, whom he acknowledged! What's going to happen now? If I don't have anymore children, he'll be siring bastards all over the country and acknowledging who knows how much?! I can't accept all his bastards in the royal nursery! Mary, he loves me, but sometimes he can't help himself and has to give in to his lustfulness."

"Oh Catherine! He won't do that!"

"He has two already. Matilda and Victoire. What if the next one's a boy?"

"What do you mean?"

"I heard rumours-"

"About what?"

"The King's illegitimate daughters. Some are saying that he'll marry them off to the most important noblemen of England, or to foreign illegitimate children of other Kings. I also heard that he might legitimise them and place them in the Succession."

"No way. They won't be in the Succession. Why would they?"

"How about the first part?"

"Marrying them off to nobility and other illegitimate bastards?"

"There's been talk that Victoire or Matilda will marry the illegitimate son of the Pope. Do you think my husband will really do that?"

"No. Who told you this?"

"I heard a couple of servants talking about it."

"Catherine! I'm surprised at you! I didn't know you're one who listens to gossip! You should know not to listen to gossip! Especially the ones said by the servants! Servants are always gossiping about us! It'll be good for England! Think about it. England had never had a close alliance with the Pope before. Charles told me that the French are planning an alliance with the Pope, so they can take their land back. The land that we had just won. We'll have to beat them in an alliance. Catherine, you won't want one of your daughters to marry a Pope's bastard, do you?"

"Actually, I would view it as an honour."

Mary shook her head in disbelief.

Catherine was always a staunch Catholic and always will be.

Norfolk suddenly appeared at the door and bowed. Catherine had a nasty feeling that the day would only get worse.

"Your Majesty," he murmured. "Your Royal Highness."

"Your Grace," said Catherine, addressing him.

"May I have a private word with you?"

"Mary. Please leave us. The Duke of Norfolk and I will be fine having a conversation here. I'm sure your children will be wondering where their mother is by now! Charles is probably getting tortured playing with my daughters as well! I'll see you at dinner."

Mary curtsied lightly and departed.

The Duke glowered at Catherine.

She looked back boldly.

Catherine wasn't afraid of him.

She was the Queen of England, and he's only a nobleman.

"I see you're still wearing the proxy ring," said the Duke coldly. "Your mind remembers the proxy betrothal, but your mouth doesn't."

"I didn't arrange the marriages," said Catherine icily.

"Oh really?"

"The King does that."

"Why didn't you tell him that the Prince of Wales is betrothed to Lady Katherine Howard?! Your mouth is eloquent enough. You saved the lives of a couple of petty criminals, and you somehow neglected to tell your husband that your son is betrothed?! That is hard to believe. You wanted that Anglo-Austrian marriage, didn't you? Of course you do. That Archduchess is related to you by your sister's marriage with that Austrian Habsburg, isn't she?"

"I would watch my tongue if I am you."

"Oh, how can I forget? You're the Queen after all."

"Your daughter doesn't have enough status to marry a royal Prince. Especially the Heir to the Throne. It would cause problems."

"I beg your pardon?!"

"The marriage won't be considered legal."

"Of course it'll be legal! There won't even need to be a dispensation! Your Majesty, we made a promise and it'll be dishonourable if you break it. Us Howards uphold honour before anything, and I think as Queen, you should as well."

Catherine was furious.

She slipped off the ring and flung it at the Duke.

"I won't have it!" she spat. "The betrothal is worthless! I won't allow the Howards any closer to the throne than they already are!"

"Excuse me?!" said Norfolk angrily.

"Your Katherine won't be Queen of England!"

"Why not?! You prefer the Austrian bitch to a full Englishwoman?"

"If it's an Englishwoman for my son, I would've chose a girl with a less ambitious father, who only wants the power and to act as King!"

"And what kind of girl would you choose?"

"One who I won't share the name with you."

Norfolk could hardly contain his rage.

He forced himself to remain calm for the sake of his life. The Duke knew that if he angered Catherine more than she's angry enough, she would complain to the King, and at a time like this, he wouldn't doubt his wife's words, and he knew that his life would be over. If he was lucky, he would get life imprisonment, but at this rate, he would lose his head.

The Duke bowed and left.

Lady Pole hurried in.

He paused and glanced at her.

Would Catherine prefer Lady Pole's daughter as Queen of England? Will Catherine break off the Portuguese betrothal (which wasn't particularly successful) and allow Princess Margaret to marry Lady Pole's eldest son, Henry Pole, the 1st Baron Montague? Would Henry Pole have more of a chance to marry a Royal Princess?

_No,_ the Duke told himself. _That won't happen. Montague's a nobleman too._

The more he thought of it, the more he grew uneasy.

Henry Pole had royal blood in his veins from his mother's side, and high favour from his close connections to the King from his father's side.

Lady Margaret Pole wasn't only the 8th Countess of Salisbury in her own right, but a Royal Plantagenet Princess of York before her marriage.

Some could say the Plantagenets have higher claim to the Throne.

An alliance between the Tudors and Plantagenets would be very useful.

Very useful indeed.

Norfolk himself had married a Plantagenet-descended Stafford noblewoman, but the Poles have more royal blood than any Stafford. He felt envious and annoyed that he married a noblewoman with only a little royal blood while another noble family (the Nevilles) married into the Pole family. That meant war in the English Court.

Will Catherine really allow her daughter to marry a Pole?

"That's impossible," Norfolk muttered to himself. "Will Catherine really allow Margaret to marry into nobility? She's now Her Royal Highness, the Princess Margaret Tudor of England, but if she marries him, she'll be My Lady, Margaret Pole, Baroness Montague."

He laughed softly.

Catherine won't allow her daughter to become a mere Baroness.

Then again, she might persuade the King to promote him…

What if the King gives Henry Pole the title Duke of Gloucester? He'll be acknowledging Henry Pole as a son-in-law and a member of the royal family!

Norfolk knew that it won't do.

Henry Pole will have to die.

Norfolk knew that Catherine had refused to be his ally, so he'll be finding his own way to promote his family (violence or no violence) and he'll have revenge on Catherine and her allies, most likely attacking the Poles from a distance.

No one messes with the Howards and gets away with it.

Even the Queen of England.

The Duke met his good friend and ally John de Vere, the 15th Earl of Oxford at the door of his apartments, and a plan formed in his head.

"Norfolk," said de Vere pleasantly.

"Oxford," returned Norfolk.

"I see that your plans haven't worked out?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Don't hide it, Norfolk. It's obvious that you wanted one of your daughters to marry the Prince of Wales, so you Howards can get closer to the Throne! What happened? Did the King and Queen reject the idea and agree to an Austrian alliance?"

"Actually, they forgot about it."

"How sad."

"I was thinking that we should have an alliance. Between you and me. I know we're good friends, but I want to make it an official alliance. One of your daughters can marry my heir! The dowry won't be as high as the ones I would ask from other nobles, and there'll be advantages for the de Veres and Howards. Once one of your daughters marry into my family, she'll be regarded as a Howard and what she achieves, will be an achievement for both the de Veres and Howards. What do you say, Oxford? Do you want good positions in Court for your sons? Good marriages for your daughters? I can arrange that easily. I'm sure you don't want me to have an alliance with the Seymours."

De Vere flinched.

The Seymours were dangerous.

All Seymour wives and females are particularly fertile and the Seymour family members bred like rabbits. All the Seymour girls were docile, obedient and well-behaved, which is the exact opposite of what attracts men to Howard girls.

"I agree to your terms," de Vere said quickly.

"Good," said Norfolk calmly.

"It'll be between your eldest son (the Earl of Surrey) and my second daughter, Frances? The eldest is already betrothed."

"To who?"

"The Earl of Northumberland's eldest son."

"Thank God it's not the Nevilles."

"You honestly think I'll have an alliance with them?!"

"You're my closest ally, John. There's no other nobleman I trust as much as you. I accept your terms for this alliance. Your Frances and my Henry. It'll be as good as any marriage. I'll accept your daughter without a dowry if you help me get revenge on a couple of people who offended me. It won't be treasonous. It'll be perfectly legal. Leave the illegal part to me. I just need your support for my plans. I need to be certain that I can trust you."

"Of course I'll help you!"

Norfolk smiled evilly.

His plans are on the way, and he'll extract revenge on Catherine. Even if it meant by illegal sources and treasonous actions.

* * *

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	9. Chapter IX

Chapter IX

**April, 1517**

The physicians seemed to have the power to see the future. They had somehow knew that Catherine would have her last child in 1517.

Catherine's pains started at midnight.

It was more painful than her last pregnancy.

Henry VIII paced back and forth impatiently for the news of a healthy baby and Catherine's health. He wanted news at once.

Catherine laboured all night and day.

The Court grew worried.

Henry VIII hoped all was going well.

A couple of hours later, the cries of a baby was heard throughout the Tower.

The Tower was a dark place to have children.

Henry VIII promised himself that next time the baby's about to be due, he'll move the Court to a much more pleasant place like Hampton Court or Richmond Palace. Even Rhuddlan Castle (near Wales) was a much comfortable place than the Tower. He wondered what'll happen if Catherine dies in childbirth and the child survives.

What will he tell his children?

Would he remarry?

The physicians and midwives gathered around Catherine, who was exhausted and tired after many hours of agonising labour.

"You have a girl," a midwife informed Catherine.

"Will I live?" murmured Catherine.

"Yes. You've lost a lot of blood, but you'll survive. I have unfortunate news for you though. A couple of tissues have been damaged at the birth of your child. The physicians have decreed that you'll die if you try and have more children."

"What?"

"This child will be your last."

"But I'm still young enough for child bearing!"

"Your health needs to be considered, Your Majesty."

Catherine glanced at the baby in the midwife's arms. Now she understood the feeling her mother experienced when she discovered that Catherine's her last child. Catherine had hoped to have many children, but nine!

"Joanna," she said listlessly. "After my sister, the Queen of Castile."

From that moment, the little Princess was known as Joanna of the Tower.

Henry VIII bursted into her chamber.

He noticed straight away that Catherine was more pale and wane than she usually looked after childbirth. She was thinner. Much thinner. Her lustrous, auburn hair hung unattractively at the sides of her face, when they normally would be curled at the tips. Her Sapphire, blue eyes were unusually dull, and she looked depressed and sad.

"Is our child dead?" said Henry VIII promptly.

Catherine shook her head.

Henry VIII silently sighed with relief.

A stillborn or weak infant could be taken as a bad omen.

"She's named Joanna," said Catherine quietly.

"Of course," said Henry VIII, worried. "After your sister, the Queen of Castile. Are you alright? What happened? You don't seem yourself."

"We can't have anymore children."

"What?! Why?!"

"Ask those physicians and midwives. They seem certain that I can't have anymore children. It's not my fertility, Henry. Apparently my health counts too."

Henry VIII seemed a little stunned and relieved. He kissed Catherine gently on the cheek and went to

see the physicians and midwives at the back of the room. He took baby Joanna from a midwife and rocked her quietly, thinking of the future.

Joanna's their last child.

Henry VIII hadn't expected this so soon.

He had always thought that he and Catherine would have at least twelve children (rivalling Edward III and Philippa of Hainault).

He was also uncertain how to tell Catherine…

While Catherine was pregnant with Joanna, he had drunk a little too much with Charles, and slept with a Neville girl (unintentionally). He discovered a few days before Catherine gave birth to Joanna, that the girl had give birth to a son.

And he didn't know which Neville girl he slept with.

Thankfully, an unhappy (and a little embarrassed) Ralph Neville, the 4th Earl of Westmorland came forward with his sister, Isabel le Despenser (nee' Neville), 3rd Countess of Winchester, and admitted that she was the one who gave birth to his bastard son, and to prove it, he brought forth his younger brother, who witnessed the whole affair. Henry VIII was relieved and apologised to the Earl and his sister for his troubles in the affair.

Isabel le Despenser presented his illegitimate son to him.

To Henry VIII's horror, his bastard son had inherited his unmistakable red hair.

Why does all his bastards have red hair?!

"I named him Edward," said Lady le Despenser uncertainly. "I hope you don't mind. I thought he was my husband's son, but then the red hair…"

The red hair's such a giveaway.

"Edward's a fine name," Henry VIII assured her.

"What can she do?" said the Earl impatiently. "Her husband calls her a whore and refuses to allow her back in his manors. He's threatening to bastardise his children with my sister. The le Despensers are notoriously unfaithful, and they accuse my sister of infidelity! Your Majesty, what can you do to help us in this current dilemma?"

Henry VIII frowned slightly.

He started this mess, he'll fix this mess.

"I'll offer the Earl of Winchester the title Marquess of Dorset," he said thoughtfully. "On the condition that he reconciles with his wife, and announce a public apology to the Nevilles. He'll have a good position in my household."

The Earl nodded in agreement.

"I'll acknowledge our son," Henry VIII told Lady le Despenser.

"You will?" said Isabel le Despenser, surprised.

"Yes. He is my son."

"What if my husband rejects him in the nursery?"

"Oh, don't worry about that, Lady le Despenser. Our boy won't be raised in your nursery. He'll have a royal education with his half-siblings. I'm sure he'll be happy there. When he's older, he'll have his own household and I'll give him the title Earl of Pembroke. I'll make sure that after my death, he'll be treated with the same respect as he'll receive as if I'm alive. I'll arrange a good marriage for him too. You don't have to worry about him any longer, Lady le Despenser. From this day forth, young Edward will be known as the King's acknowledged son. If your husband's still cold and neglectful to you, let me know and he'll be in trouble! You have the King's protection now, My Lady."

"What will the Queen think?"

Henry VIII was uneasy.

Catherine didn't know about it.

"She'll accept him," said Henry VIII uncertainly.

Isabel le Despenser and the Earl of Westmorland sighed in relief.

They left, and Henry VIII bounced Edward on his knee, thinking of how to break the news to Catherine as gently as he could. He remembered Catherine's reaction the first time he told her that his mistress was pregnant with his child. That didn't go well. At least Lady Hastings gave birth to a girl. Catherine had accepted Matilda without fuss, and the same went with his other illegitimate daughter, Victoire. He suspected that Catherine was more fond of Victoire (because her mother died in childbirth) than Matilda, but what would she think of Edward?

Henry VIII glanced at Catherine.

She had fallen asleep.

"I must go," he said abruptly. "Let me know when Catherine wakes up. Take the Princess to the nursery with her siblings."

He went to see Charles and Mary.

"How is she?" said Mary at once.

She liked Catherine, and would be upset if she died.

"Catherine lives," Henry VIII replied.

Mary sighed with relief.

"I have a problem," muttered Henry VIII. "Catherine's exhausted from childbirth, but I have to tell her something. It's important. A few days ago, I found out that I had an illegitimate son from the Lady le Despenser. How can I tell Catherine that? The physicians said that she can't have anymore children, and my mistress gave birth to a son!"

"Henry!" said Mary, glaring at him. "How could you?!"

"Just tell her?" suggested Charles.

Henry VIII bit his lip.

He loved Catherine, but couldn't help himself.

* * *

It was 1518, and for once, Catherine wasn't pregnant. It felt strange to her, but she knew that she had to sacrifice having children for the good of England.

She couldn't allow Wolsey or Norfolk to rule England through the King.

Painfully, she accepted Edward in her nursery.

Henry VIII didn't give Edward the title Earl of Pembroke that he promised Isabel le Despenser. He decided that it'll hurt Catherine too much, and only acknowledged his illegitimate son as Lord Edward Tudor to the English people.

They were happy.

Catherine was depressed.

She knew that in a matter of years, her daughters will be married and will leave her.

Princess Mary was eight, and Henry VIII _adored_ her.

She knew that she was destined to be Queen of Spain, and was determined to learn all she can about her future husband and kingdom. She knew she'll leave England, but was certain that she'll love Spain, and will be able to visit England during her married life. After all, her mother's sister is the Queen of Spain, so she wouldn't be seeing complete strangers. Princess Mary remembered Charles of Spain from his visit to England, and was happy to be his bride.

She mastered Spanish, Latin, French, Italian and German in a matter of years.

Both the King and Queen were proud of her.

Prince Harry was also a bright and intelligent boy.

He was more quiet and subdued than his five year old twin brothers, and preferred reading and learning to be King than outdoor sports.

He had inherited more Catherine than Henry VIII.

Young Isabella was told she'll be Queen of Scots one day.

She wasn't as happy as Mary was.

"You'll be closer to England!" said Henry VIII persuasively.

"I want to stay in England," said Isabella stubbornly.

"You'll love Scotland! Your Aunt Margaret's Queen there, and will look after you! You'll soon realise that Scotland's your home and you won't even miss England! Mary's looking forward to going to Spain! I'm sure you'll be happy in Scotland!"

"Mama's born in Spain. Mary's going to be Queen of Mama's country. I'm going to be Queen of a

country that I don't know anything about."

"Do you remember the Duke of Rothesay?"

"He's my future husband."

"Yes. He's looking forward to marry you. He said that you're the only one he'll marry. He still likes you from the last time he saw you. You'll be happy in Scotland. You can visit us at anytime you want! Maybe one of your sisters can go with you!"

"Can Margaret come?"

"I'm sorry darling. She'll be going to Portugal."

"Can Harry come?"

"Harry will marry in England. His bride will go to him."

"Why can't he come?"

"He'll marry Catharina of Austria. Maybe Matilda or Victoire can go with you. You won't be going to Scotland for many years."

Isabella was satisfied.

She liked her half-sister Matilda.

Matilda understood her more than her other siblings do. Harry was her favourite brother, and she relatively disliked her elder sister, Mary. Princess Mary stole the spotlight from her whenever their parents visited, and had the honour of marrying into the high-born, powerful Habsburg family, and will rule her mother's homeland, while she's forced to marry into the barbaric House of Stuart and suffer in the cold, dreary Scottish weathers.

Isabella learnt that her future mother-in-law was fierce and merciless.

She was afraid.

_Lucky Mary,_ she thought. _She'll be loved in Spain._

Richard and Arthur were Henry VIII's favourite sons.

They would spend hours playing with their wooden swords, or pretend to be jousting on their wooden rocking horses and play with their blunt-ended wooden lances. Henry VIII loved seeing them playing. It reminded him of his own childhood.

For twins, their hair colours were different.

Richard had inherited dark brown hair from his maternal grandfather's (Ferdinand II of Aragon) ancestors, and Arthur inherited fair, flaxen hair from his paternal side (the Plantagenets). The rest of their futures were identical. Even though they were only five, they were tall for their age and were more English than Spanish, which was opposite to the Prince of Wales.

Princess Margaret was the quiet one.

She was the exact opposite of her aunt and namesake.

She hadn't been told of her fate in Portugal yet.

Henry VIII decided he'll tell her when she's a little older. Most likely when she's six or seven. Then she'll understand like Mary.

The little ones-William, Elizabeth and Joanna-were still young.

Henry VIII knew that Princess Mary will soon leave for Spain.

He remembered when she was born, how happy he and Catherine were at the prospect of having a healthy, living child, even if she was a girl. A boy would've been delightful, but a girl was welcomed just as delightfully. Healthy girls meant future healthy boys.

Henry VIII hoped she won't die young.

In the nursery, Henry VIII glanced at Edward.

He fervently wished that he could give him the title Earl of Pembroke, but knew that Catherine would be more depressed than she already is.

Norfolk watched him from a distance.

His son, the Earl of Surrey, had already married Lady Frances de Vere.

He didn't want to lose an ally, but he viewed that marriage as a waste of an alliance.

He had made it his life's goal to make sure one of his children and at least one other Howard marries into the royal family, and use their influence over their royal spouse to veer advantages to the Howards and their allies. Norfolk was certain that the Howards who married into royalty will be grateful to him, and will include him in their plans, and inform him of what's happening in Parliament. Norfolk can push a Howard into the royal family, and push one away or out of the royal family if that Howard refuses to help him and comply to his wishes.

Norfolk is the God of the Howard family.

The Howards all admired and feared him.

None of them were brave (or foolish) enough to stand up to him and argue back. They all knew that their lives were controlled by him.

He met the Earl of Wiltshire in the courtyard.

"Norfolk," said Thomas Boleyn shortly.

"Hello Thomas," said Norfolk pleasantly. "I'm glad you can come."

"It's not like I have a bloody choice, is it?"

"Now, now. I thought that your behaviour had changed when you married my sister, but alas! I thought too soon. My father was a fool for making an alliance with your father. You should be grateful that I took it upon myself that you receive the title Earl of Wiltshire instead of remaining a knight! I didn't call you here to discuss pleasantries of life. I've called you here because we have business to discuss. It's about time to put your daughters to use."

"Excuse me?!"

"Your daughters are part-Howard, part-Boleyn by blood."

"And you want to use them as chips in your game?! Your reasons better be good, Norfolk. I'm not willing for you to take them and use them that way."

"My reasons are excellent, Wiltshire."

"And what may they be?"

"Have you heard from the Queen's physicians lately?"

"No. Why?"

"Have you noticed anything odd about the Queen?"

"Why yes. She hadn't given birth to a child yet! She doesn't seem pregnant either."

"Good. She isn't. I bribed a physician to tell me what happened. Apparently, the Queen lost a great deal of blood during the last pregnancy, and the physicians advised her to have no more children. Princess Joanna is her last child. Wiltshire, what do you think will happen? Our King is a lusty man who can't live without siring children for long."

"Are you saying that he'll be more-"

"More unfaithful to the Queen? Yes, I do."

"What does this…oh no."

"Exactly. I'm glad to see that you haven't lost your ambitious brain after your promotion. This'll benefit the Howards very well."

"I won't have my daughters as whores!"

"Not both of them for God's sake! Only Mary!"

"Why Mary?"

"She's the prettier and fairer one. She doesn't question us either."

"How about Anne?"

"I have a better plan for her."

"What happens when Mary becomes pregnant with the King's child? She'll be abandoned with the child in a heartbeat! What will we do with the child? Nothing will come out of it for us! Mary will lose her reputation and virtue!"

"For the better good."

"You don't know what it feels like! You don't have any daughters old enough for child-bearing! Your children are young!"

Norfolk said nothing.

His brother-in-law didn't deserve to be in the Noble House of Howards.

He was reluctant to join in his plans.

"You didn't deserve to marry my sister," said Norfolk quietly. "Your unhelpfulness and reluctance in helping me with my plans will be remembered and not forgotten. When a Howard brings riches to us, you won't receive any, and you won't get elevated in your ranking. If you refuse me again, your children will be taken away from you."

"You can't do that!" said Wiltshire, taken back.

"I can. I'll make sure your wife is in charge of the children."

"Just because she's a Howard!"

"Because she's always helpful to me, and understands the gamble in risking our daughters and sons' lives in the games with the King! You may be ambitious, but view your own Boleyn family more important than the Howard family! That won't be tolerated, Wiltshire. If you want the fortunes that'll compensate for the loss of your daughter's virtue and reputation, I suggest you behave according to a minor member of the House of Howard and go along with my plans."

"Excuse me?! _Minor_ member?!"

"Oh, forgive me. _Major_ member of the House of Howard."

Wiltshire scowled at him.

The Duke smiled unpleasantly back at him.

His plans would always succeed one way or another.

"Fine," grumbled Wiltshire.

"Good," said Norfolk, handing a large, heavy velvet purse (weighed down with gold coins) to him. "This is for your cooperation."

He always paid his relatives who cooperate (even reluctantly).

"I expect to see your daughters in our next meeting," he told Wiltshire.

Wiltshire scowled again and left.

Norfolk went back into the palace, feeling satisfied with himself. Catherine's no threat to him. She might as well kiss the Crown good bye. Norfolk knew that the only thing that could save Catherine from a possible marriage separation with her husband, was to have a child, which might kill Catherine herself. She didn't have a lot of good options to live.

* * *

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	10. Chapter X

Chapter X

**October, 1521**

In 1520, Henry VIII had sired another bastard, whom he acknowledged as his child. The mother of the child was an Austrian noblewoman.

In fact, she was Archduchess Catharina's governess.

The Austrians weren't particularly happy, but couldn't do anything about it.

The child was named Beatriz.

Lady Beatriz Tudor.

Henry VIII had made a reputation for himself in the eyes of other European kingdoms. He was known for notoriously having open affairs with Catherine, acknowledging his bastards (which is rare amongst Kings) and having half-English, half-foreign bastards. He was also known as another warrior King who sank France and their King to its knees.

Catherine took Beatriz into her nursery without questions.

She was more fond of Henry VIII's foreign bastards than his English ones.

Catherine knew that in a couple of years, her Mary will leave England.

That day, Henry VIII called her to his chambers.

"Catherine!" he said, rubbing his hands with glee. "I've received the best news ever from your brother-in-law, the King of Portugal! It isn't particularly good news for him, but it's excellent for us! I don't need to worry about Margaret being a Princess of Portugal!"

"What is it?" said Catherine curiously.

"Our Margaret won't be an Infanta of Portugal!"

"How's that good news?"

"The Prince of Portugal's bride-to-be, Eleanor of Navarre, had died of Tuberculosis just a couple of days ago. Manuel I would be looking for a bride, and one around his son's age. Why not our Isabella marry his heir instead of Margaret for his second son? That'll sort our problems without much fuss. The Scottish affair can be handled easily. Margaret will marry the Duke of Rothesay instead of Isabella! I don't think we need to tell my sister that. Any English Princess will do for the Scottish Prince. What do you think, Cate? Is this plan worthy of an English King?"

"My father couldn't even do better!"

"Really?!"

"Yes. Have you suggested this to Manuel I yet?"

"I have!"

"What did he say?"

"He agreed with me! The only request is that Isabella would be sent to Portugal at the same time that Mary gets sent to Spain."

"I'm sure that can be easily arranged."

Henry VIII was happy.

"How about Margaret?" asked Catherine. "I don't think she'll be happy when she hears that her son's future bride will be replaced by her younger sister! She'll be furious. She might be angry enough to convince her husband to declare war on England!"

"That won't happen," said Henry VIII confidently.

He knew Margaret too well.

Catherine bit her lip.

"Have you heard from the Pope yet?" she said, changing the topic.

"Yes," said Henry VIII, pulling out a piece of parchment. "He requested that Victoire leaves for Italy at once for her to marry his illegitimate son, hold on. Why, this is amazing! The Pope requested that Victoire marries his legitimate nephew, Alessandro de' Medici, the Duke of Florence! Catherine! This is brilliant for England! We'll have close relationships with the Pope!"

Catherine was pleased.

She was a fervent Catholic, and was happy to move closer to the Roman Pope.

Even if it meant by her husband's bastard marrying the Duke of Florence. She was pleased that it was Victoire who will marry an Italian royal, instead of Matilda. Matilda may have more noble blood in her veins than Victoire, but Victoire had seemed more suitable to be wife of the Pope's nephew. She was more demure and obedient.

It seemed that Matilda was destined to be a whore, like her mother.

She was only ten, but had a liking for revealing dresses.

Henry VIII laughed when he was told this, but Catherine and the other English ladies viewed this as disgust and tried to fix her behaviour.

Nothing worked.

"When will Victoire leave England?" murmured Catherine.

"She's seven," said Henry VIII with a frown.

"His Holiness did specify for her to go to Italy at once…"

"I really don't like seeing children leave."

"I know."

"I suppose she'll have to leave England one day. I suppose Matilda will go with her. Beatriz will get along well with Edward. I'm glad we had Victoire learn Italian and Latin with the others. Now that I think of it, she _is_ more gifted in languages than Matilda. I'll send Charles to take Victoire and Matilda to Italy. I don't know whether this is too much to ask, but can you go with them? You know, to supervise them. They might need some motherly comfort."

He watched her intently.

Catherine was thoughtful.

"Very well," she said, after a while. "I'll go with them to Italy. I might have practise saying goodbye to them as I will to Mary and the others."

* * *

There were celebrations all over England as the Royal Family travelled to the closest part of English territory to Italy.

The English always loved royal betrothals and weddings.

They remembered the free wine distributed at Henry VIII's marriage with Catherine.

They were all pleased that England will have closer ties with Rome and the Pope, thus having closer ties with God, even though they'll be putting their faith through the seven year old illegitimate daughter of the King and a French maid.

Naturally, Victoire was frightened.

She knew she wasn't the real daughter of the King and Queen of England.

She knew that she was illegitimate and not a Princess.

Victoire was a Tudor Lady, not a Tudor Princess of England.

At least she wasn't the only illegitimate daughter of the King.

Victoire knew she was accepted in the royal household by the grace of Queen Catherine, who had also agreed to be her stepmother. She knew that her real mother's identity was unknown, and she had died giving birth to her. Victoire was ashamed that she was the fruit of a relationship out of wedlock, and named ironically after the English success over the French, and given the French feminine version of victory. She was embarrassed to be named Victoire.

She envied her elder half-sister, Matilda.

Matilda was fully English, and her mother was a noblewoman and alive.

Victoire didn't know why Matilda's mother refused to see Matilda.

To her, a mother was the most wonderful thing in the world.

Catherine could never be a real mother to her. No matter how kind and motherly she is, she'll never be a true mother to Victoire.

"Are you excited?" said Matilda, her eyes shining.

"We're leaving England," said Victoire mournfully.

Somehow, she inherited the French accent from her mother and she was raised in England!

"It's a new adventure!" said Matilda excitedly. "Imagine that, Toire! Just you and me! None of the boys are in this adventure! Just you and me! Imagine what we can find and see when we arrive in Italy without them! They'll be so envious of us! Don't look so glum, Toire! We'll love Italy! The new food, the new style of dresses to wear, new people to meet! You'll have a higher ranking than Mary! You'll be the Duchess of Florence in a matter of days! You'll be related to the Pope himself! Wouldn't that be grand? You'll soon be a mother too!"

Victoire was frightened.

She was afraid of marrying the Pope's nephew, but being a mother!

She was only a young girl!

"Don't worry," said Catherine, giving Matilda a warning look. "You'll be attending your lessons with your future husband, Matilda and a few other English noblewomen. They'll leave Italy eventually, but will stay with you for the time being."

Victoire sighed in relief.

She was glad she already knew Italian and Latin quite well!

"I can't wait to see the Italian fashion!" said Matilda happily.

"Of course you can't," said Victoire softly.

"I heard that the Italian dresses are more beautiful than the English ones!"

"What?"

"The Italian dresses seem decorated all over!"

"The Italians are fine artists."

"And dressmakers! I also heard that some women in Italy have their necklines quite low, so Lords can see the top of their breasts! Think of that, Toire! If you wear a dress in that fashion, your husband will surely find you attractive and can't resist you! You'll have a horde of children in no time! I can design the dresses for you if you like! There's nothing that'll please me more than to design exquisite dresses for you that'll make you attractive. If your husband doesn't fall for you, I'm sure there are other ways to make him love you. For the babies of course."

She looked craftily at Victoire.

Victoire was horrified.

The last thing she was expecting was low neck-lined dresses!

"That's enough!" said Catherine sharply. "Matilda, I don't know where you hear such things, but I want you to behave! You're scaring Victoire! Remember, you'll be watched at all times like in England. Don't think you can get away with matters since you're not in England. If your conduct does not improve, you'll come straight home and get married off to a squire!"

Matilda's bottom lip stuck out.

She hated being told off.

Especially by the Queen of England.

"You can't stop me," she couldn't help saying. "You're not my real mother. My Papa won't let you marry me to a squire! He'll want the best marriage for me! I'll soon be a Queen or Duchess too! Maybe I'll marry for love which Victoire can't do!"

Victoire began crying.

She wanted to go home.

She wanted to be back at the nursery with her half-siblings.

"I want to go home!" she wailed.

"Matilda!" said Catherine angrily. "See what you've done?! Your conduct will be under constant scrutiny the whole time! Do you understand?"

Matilda meekly nodded.

She knew that she was the only child of Henry VIII Catherine loathed.

Victoire was loved because she was motherless and Beatriz was loved because she was the daughter of an Austrian noblewoman!

Matilda was confident that she'll be a Queen or Duchess someday…

For the rest of the trip to Italy, both girls were quiet.

It took over two days for them to reach Italy, and they stopped at Austria and Navarre on the way there, and were greeted enthusiastically by the Navarrese royal family and the Austrian royal family (mostly relatives of Catharina).

Catherine felt a little guilty to be feasting and being entertained in Navarre at such a time. She knew

that the King and Queen had recently lost Eleanor.

And now they were celebrating.

England and Navarre were on friendly terms…

But not for long.

The King and Queen of Navarre would be furious if they find out that their late daughter's former fiancé had been immediately betrothed to Princess Isabella of England without even a day's wait. They would view England as an enemy and make an alliance with one of England's enemies. Their first choice would be an alliance with France, but the French were in no condition to negotiate treaties without offending Henry VIII or the English.

Catherine was introduced to the other Navarrese Princes and Princesses.

The King (Charles II) had married Princess Marie de Valois, a cousin of Francis I.

The French and Navarrese had always been close.

Charles II and Marie de Valois had five children (and three dead-Eleanor, John and Francis). The eldest was Princess Joan, followed by Henry, the Prince of Viana, Prince Louis and the last being Princess Blanche, two sons and two daughters.

They were all delightful and good-looking.

Catherine enjoyed her time in Navarre.

Victoire said nothing during the entire stay in Navarre.

Charles watched her.

He knew that his wife was Princess, and not all Princesses were as lucky as she was.

"Sad, isn't it?" he commented to Catherine.

"Hmm?" said Catherine, turning to him.

"Even illegitimate children of Kings have to suffer the fate of Princesses. Poor Victoire would have the chance to live a life in England by marrying an English nobleman, but instead, she'll be marrying the Pope's nephew, the Duke of Florence! I heard that he's a good man. What do you think will happen to her bastard half-siblings? The same treatment?"

"What are you implying?"

"Who'll Matilda marry? She seems to be on the same trail as her mother!"

"I see you mean Lady Hastings. I agree with you."

"What?! Is this the noble Catherine I hear?"

"Charles. You know as well as I, that she could've well in fact inherited this unseemly behaviour and early wantonness through both parents!"

Charles stared at Catherine, impressed.

He had never thought she would talk about the King behind his back in such a way.

The King was unfaithful, and so was Lady Hastings…

_Maybe Catherine's right_, thought Charles. _Little Lady Matilda might be destined to be a harlot like her mother after all! Perhaps she inherited it from her father, who's known as an unfaithful husband! I wonder what'll happen in her future!_

He chuckled out loud.

Catherine raised her eyebrows.

"Sorry," he said hastily. "I was thinking."

"Must be funny," said Catherine, watching Matilda converse with a Prince of Navarre. "What do you think she's saying to His Highness of Navarre?"

Matilda laughed most unsuitable for a noblewoman.

Catherine frowned faintly.

"I hate her," she confessed to Charles. "I can't help it, but I hate her. There's something about her that makes me annoyed. Probably it's because she's Henry VIII's first acknowledged bastard? I don't know! I just don't like her."

Charles knew that already.

It was pleasant to hear it from Catherine herself.

He had noticed for a while that Catherine was kinder and smiled more when she was with her own children, or Henry VIII's younger bastards. She even played a couple of times with Edward. That was rare for a Queen. Most Queens could cope with their husbands' bastards, but not one of them played or treated them like their own children.

Catherine was one unique Queen of England.

After the feast, Catherine couldn't sleep.

Charles II and Queen Marie had provided her a fine bed, suitable for her rank, but she still couldn't sleep well. There were quiet murmurings in the main part of her chambers, but that wasn't what was keeping her up. She had been separated from Henry VIII's illegitimate children, and she was worried what Matilda was up to in the Navarrese Palace.

She wasn't worried about Victoire.

Probably the poor girl was crying herself to sleep.

Matilda was the one she was concerned about.

Catherine silently changed her clothes and lit a candle.

Maria de Salinas hurried in.

"Catherine!" she said, surprised. "What are you doing, out of bed? You should be asleep! The journey to Italy still has a long way to go! You'll be tired tomorrow morning! What are you looking for? Allow me to find it for you."

"I'm going to see Matilda," answered Catherine.

"Matilda? Why?"

"I have a feeling she's up to no good."

"Trust her, Catherine, She's in a foreign Court. I don't think she'll be indiscreet here. She knows if she misbehaves, she'll return to England in disgrace. Catherine, she wants to go to Italy. She thinks it's an adventure. Don't worry. If she misbehaves, you'll be the first to know. I'm sure Lady Maud Parr would agree with you, and keep a close eye on Matilda. Catherine, those girls aren't your children. You don't need to feel responsible for them."

All the Florentines had left their homes to greet Catherine and the royal party. They all wanted to see their future Duchess Consort.

With them was the Pope, Clement VII.

"Your Holiness," said Catherine, kissing his hand. "It is an honour."

"A pleasure to see you, Devout Daughter of Christ," murmured Clement VII. "I heard about your greatness in England. I praise you on your fervent Catholicism when there are words of protest against the Church. You brought Dona Vittoria?"

Victoire's name had already been changed to the Italian version; Vittoria.

Catherine stood back and gestured for her to curtsey to the Pope.

Intrigued and a little nervous, Victoire curtsied and kissed his hand.

"Welcome to Florence, Dear Daughter," Clement VII said, smiling.

"Your Holiness," said Victoire, in barely a whisper.

"There's nothing to be afraid. There'll always be someone to love you in Florence and Italy. You will soon be a member of the Medici family. I'm sure my nephew will love you. As long as the Medicis remain in power, harm will never reach you."

"Thank you, Your Holiness."

"I see you brought an English retinue with you? Si?"

"Yes, Your Holiness."

"They'll have to go in a couple of years' time. When you're older, of course."

"Yes, Your Holiness."

"You are a quiet little thing! Who's this? You have brought your sister to Florence? Is there a reason for this, little, Dona Vittoria?"

"This was part of our agreement, Your Holiness," said Catherine steadily. "We agreed that Victoire's dowry is a thousand florins, and you'll allow Victoire to bring a relative and a retinue, and they'll stay with her until the consummation of the marriage can take place, which'll be when she's fifteen. Upon her death, if there's no child, the Duke of Florence will marry either Lady Matilda or Lady Beatriz, and will keep the dowry. If there is a child, and he chooses to remarry, half the dowry will return to England, but if he marries an English Princess or English royal, he'll keep the dowry and will receive five hundred florins. A match will also be made between the future Duke of Florence and an English Princess to ensure peace between England and Italy."

"Of course," said the Pope quickly.

"I expect your word of honour on this, Your Holiness."

"Of course. That is the conditions of the Treaty of Rome. I'll keep my end to the bargain. How do I know you and your husband will keep your end to the bargain? I can always excommunicate you if you break our promise, but I'd rather not do that."

"I'm a Lady of Honour, Your Holiness."

"I believe you. God be with you."

Catherine curtsied again and stepped back.

"Dona Mathilde?" said the Pope, looking around.

Matilda was uncomfortable when she heard her name being called.

She was always called Matilda in England, and it was odd for her hearing her name said differently, and by a stranger.

Catherine nudged her forward.

Matilda stumbled and fell at the Pope's feet.

The English royal party gasped.

The Pope laughed.

"Well!" he said, helping Matilda up. "This is a good sign, loyal people of Florence! Dona Mathilde is so eager to hear from God, that she fell at the feet of his representative! What do you think, Florentines? Is this a good sign to you? The speechlessness of a young girl in front of God's representative! There will be good luck for Florence as long as Dona Mathilde is here! Come, Florentines. Let's celebrate the good fortune of the English and Florentines!"

The Florentines cheered.

Matilda had no idea what was happening.

She was certain that she wasn't eager to hear from God, but was relieved that the Pope covered for her blunder of falling over her own feet.

She glanced at Catherine, red in the face.

Catherine didn't look very happy.

* * *

**Here's another chapter! :) Please review! **


	11. Chapter XI

Chapter XI

**January, 1523**

Time was running out for Princess Mary. In two years' time, she would be leaving for Spain and becoming the Princess of Asturias.

The Scottish affair had preceded this in 1522.

It wasn't particularly pleasant.

Margaret (who still thought Isabella was betrothed to the Duke of Rothesay) demanded that Isabella is sent to Scotland to be raised alongside the Heir of Scotland. That wasn't well-received in the English Court, since that formed a little problem. Isabella had formally been promised to the Prince of Portugal, and it wasn't certain that Princess Margaret's betrothed to the Scottish Heir. It hadn't been a formal betrothal, and it was only an assumption.

Henry VIII decided to play a trick on Margaret.

Catherine was against it, but he had made up his mind.

The most Catherine could do, was to comfort her daughter.

Princess Margaret was only nine.

She had always thought she'll leave for Scotland or Portugal when she's older.

"I don't want to go," said Princess Margaret miserably. "Mary's older and she's still here! Why can't I stay here too? I don't want to leave England! Scotland will be cold! I'll be all alone! I don't want to go there! I want to stay here!"

Catherine felt her heart breaking.

Taking Matilda and Victoire to Italy was nothing.

They weren't even her own children.

Allowing Princess Margaret to go to Scotland to be under the rule of her domineering aunt and namesake, is too cruel to imagine. Catherine wished she could placate Margaret with gifts, but the forceful Queen of Scots will have none of that.

"If you want to placate me, give me Isabella," Margaret declared.

James IV grew weaker every day.

Scotland was going through troubled times.

"I don't want to go to Scotland alone," said Princess Margaret tearfully.

"You won't," Catherine assured her. "There'll be people with you!"

"Will you come with me?"

"I'm sorry Margaret, but I can't. I have to stay in England."

"Who will come with me then?"

"A couple of English noblewomen around your age. You won't be alone. You'll have English companions as well as Scottish ones! Don't worry! You can visit us anytime you want to! Soon you'll be a mother and will have a lot of children!"

"I don't want to be a mother!"

"You will later!"

Princess Margaret wept in her mother's arms.

Henry VIII looked away, unable to meet the tearful eyes of his wife and daughter.

Princess Mary wandered in.

"What happened to Margaret?" she said, concerned.

"She's going to Scotland today," said Henry VIII painfully. "She doesn't want to. It's all very sudden, but your Aunt Margaret was quite adamant. Your sister will have to go. I'm sorry, My Pearl, but there's nothing we can do to stop it unless we're prepared for war. We are richer than a couple of countries, but there'll always be the need for money in war."

Princess Mary looked sympathetically at her sister.

She knew that she'll have to leave England as well, but when she's fifteen.

"Come on," Catherine forced herself to say. "We can't keep your Aunt Margaret waiting. You can always visit England when you're married."

She embraced Princess Margaret again and stood up.

Princess Margaret was of average height, but thinner than her other sisters. Her mousy, light brown hair

wasn't as famous or lustrous as Harry's red hair or Mary's auburn hair. She knew that the people loved Harry and Mary more than her or her siblings.

_If the English don't like me, _she thought miserably. _The Scottish won't either._

Princess Margaret felt she wasn't wanted.

She bravely stood up.

Henry VIII and Catherine led her out the palace and into the carriage. There were two more carriages behind the one she'll sit in.

It was decided that Catherine would go only to the border.

Charles would go with her to meet James IV of Scots and Queen Margaret.

He was more trusted by Henry VIII than the Duke of Norfolk.

Mary of Suffolk would go with them.

Charles was appointed the ambassador until Henry VIII summoned him back.

Henry VIII wanted her daughter protected by trusted people in Scotland.

The people cheered as Princess Margaret, Catherine, Charles, Mary and the English retinue began their journey to Scotland. They heard about Margaret's cruelness, and felt sorry for the poor, little Princess that'll be her daughter-in-law. They also knew about Henry VIII and Catherine's utmost reluctance to consent to the Princess to travel to Scotland at such young age. Catherine hoped to hear further good news from Princess Margaret when she settled down in Scotland, even though she knew how cold and heartless Margaret Tudor is.

A couple of hours later, they reached the border of England.

"I can't go further," said Catherine sadly.

Princess Margaret cried on her shoulder for a few minutes.

Charles gently pulled her away.

Catherine kissed Princess Margaret on the forehead and slipped out of the carriage. She climbed onto a horse and watched the carriages go ahead.

She wasn't alone.

Another English party was with her to go back to the palace.

Princess Margaret watched the scenery change as the carriage went onto Scottish land. Her eyes were of a dull colour, not the usual sparkly blue. She was afraid of her Aunt Margaret. She wondered what the Scots would think of her.

"No need to be afraid," said Mary gently.

"I want to go home," Princess Margaret said in a small voice.

"You'll love Scotland! Just give it a chance!"

"What if Margaret of Scotland is cruel to me?"

"She wouldn't! She's my sister and you aunt! She knows your father will be very angry if he hears about the harsh treatment she might give you! Charles and I will be there with you! Until you're of an age you can be by yourself. We'll stay with you until you're fifteen or sixteen, unless Henry VIII calls us back to England earlier. What do you think of that?"

"Will you stay with me in the castles?"

"Yes. I'll talk to my sister about this matter."

Princess Margaret sighed in relief.

Mary smiled at her.

While Princess Margaret gazed out the window, Mary looked at Charles.

He seemed uncomfortable and a little worried.

She felt angry that Margaret cared nothing of her family.

Only her children.

The carriage came to a halt.

"We're here," said Princess Margaret quietly.

Charles went out the carriage, followed by Mary. She stopped Princess Margaret from getting out of the carriage. Margaret was waiting for them outside.

"Mary," said Margaret, a little surprised. "Charles."

"Margaret," said Mary, forcing herself to be pleasant. "It's been a while. Charles and I have ah, business

to discuss with you and James IV before we present the Duke of Rothesay's future bride. Don't look so alarmed, we did bring her! If we didn't, then there wouldn't be a reason we would be here! Where's your husband, Margaret? I can't see him."

"He's in Edinburgh Castle," said Margaret suspiciously.

"He sent you as his ambassador?" Charles couldn't help saying.

Margaret shot him a dirty look.

He may have married into the family, but she still viewed him as a nobleman and nothing else. She had accepted him, but not as a royal Prince.

"What is it?" Margaret said impatiently. "Where's Isabella?"

"There's been a problem," Mary said hastily.

"A problem?"

"Yes. Not a big one though."

"Mary, what are you hiding? What's going on?"

"Are you sure you want to know?"

"Tell me!"

"Princess Isabella is already betrothed to the Prince of Portugal. The Portuguese had insisted for her to remain betrothed to the Prince and no other betrothals can take place. Henry VIII thought it's better to break the Scottish betrothal and replace Isabella with Margaret. He thought that there isn't much of an age difference between the Duke of Rothesay and Princess Margaret. That's why he sent Charles and me as his ambassadors instead of one of the regular English ambassadors. Would you like to meet Princess Margaret now, or would you like to see her later?"

Margaret was still.

She couldn't believe her ears.

She had been tricked by Henry VIII in the betrothal!

_Of course he wouldn't break off the Portuguese betrothal,_ she thought bitterly._ He'll always want to placate Catherine, and the Queen of Portugal is her sister! Now all of Europe would laugh at this! I can't believe Henry VIII would do this to me!_

Mary watched her carefully.

Margaret can be quite unpredictable.

"I'll see the Princess," said Margaret stiffly.

She was expressionless.

Mary went into the carriage.

"Come," she said to Princess Margaret. "Margaret wants to see you!"

Princess Margaret whimpered in fear.

Mary gently pulled her out.

Princess Margaret remembered Margaret visiting England when she was younger, but couldn't remember what she looked like or how she acted. She knew that she was named after the Queen of Scots and her great grandmother.

"Margaret," said Mary, gently pushing her forward. "This is your aunt."

Princess Margaret looked up and saw her aunt and namesake.

Queen Margaret had brown hair and stood straight and proud.

Her eyes were brown and had anger and pride in them. There was a sense of haughtiness and cruelty around Queen Margaret. Princess Margaret often compared her to Mary, and was surprised to see that there was no sign of kindness in Queen Margaret.

"So this is my little namesake," said Margaret with a grim smile.

Princess Margaret curtsied.

To Margaret, there was something angelic about her.

Margaret wanted to strangle her to death.

She smiled to herself rather than to Princess Margaret.

She had thought of a way to have revenge on her brother.

"Come with me," said Margaret pleasantly. "Mary, Charles. I hope you can stay here for a couple of days. To celebrate the betrothal of the Duke of Rothesay and Princess Margaret. There's the dowry to discuss as well. I'm sure our brother won't mind if you negotiate it on his behalf. I'm sure Princess Margaret will be happy if both of you can stay for a while. Mary, you and I can talk about memories from our childhood, and you can fill me in on what's been happening in England! Even though I'm the Queen of Scots, I'm still an English Princess!"

"Of course," said Charles cautiously.

Mary was uncertain.

What can Margaret be possibly be up to?

She would never be polite and friendly unless it's for her own benefits.

"There will be a feast of course," said Margaret cheerfully. "I have an English chef in the kitchens who will cook us a delicious English feast instead of the traditional Scottish meals. I'm sure little Margaret would want an English meal rather than a Scottish one!"

* * *

Catherine sobbed on Henry VIII's shoulder at night time. One of her nine children had left England to be married to the Scottish Heir.

"Don't worry," Henry VIII soothed her.

"Margaret's gone!" sobbed Catherine. "I won't see her ever again!"

"You will!"

"What if she's treated badly? I won't be able to help her!"

"Catherine, calm down. Mary and Charles are keeping an eye out on Margaret for us! They'll let us know of everything that'll happen to Margaret. If my sister does abuse or harm our daughter, they'll write to us at once and let us know"

"My Margaret's gone!"

"Come, Catherine. You'll get over it."

Catherine sniffled softly.

She knew that her daughters will have to leave her one day.

At least her sons won't.

"We need wives for the twins," said Henry VIII, changing the topic.

"Of course," agreed Catherine.

"They're ten, and a betrothal should be made for both of them at once. I've been consulting Wolsey on this matter, and both of us came to a decision that England should have alliances with both Denmark and Navarre for defense purposes. The last thing we want is France having an alliance with one of our enemies and attacking England to extract revenge on us. I'm confident that the dowries can be arranged quickly with no problems at all, the betrothals made and the Princesses sent to England. We need to deal with the problem with France too."

"How do you propose we deal with France?"

"Marriage alliance between William and a French Princess."

"Are you sure the French would want their daughter to marry a fourth son? Two of their daughters are already in our care!"

"Louise and Charlotte will marry two Princes of Suffolk as planned."

"Which French Princess?"

"Madeleine of France."

"I see you want a quick consummation between the children."

"Why of course! They're young now, but won't be for long."

"Does Francis I know about it?"

"Not yet. I'm planning to tell him by letter tomorrow morning. I think he'll accept it. After all, his older daughters will marry two English Princes, his Duke of Orleans is in my care, and many parts of France is now in England's hands! He should be pleased that his third daughter will marry the Fourth-in-Line to the Throne. Francis I is in no position to fight."

"I heard that Princess Madeleine's betrothed to the Duke of Ross already."

"What?! Margaret's second son?!"

"Yes. You should check with Mary and Charles. I'm certain Francis I is planning the Auld Alliance renewal

with Scotland. Not a wise move if you ask me. Next time I launch another campaign against France, I'll force him to view me as his overlord."

"Oh Henry! Please don't lead another war campaign!"

"I'm sorry Catherine, Francis I needs to learn a lesson for annoying me."

"What will we do about the Duke of Orleans?"

"Marry him off to an ally favourable to England or to a wealthy English heiress. I'll think about it when he's a little older, like when he's ten or twelve."

Catherine said nothing.

She had hoped for Henry VIII to stop thinking of war.

He had a point in finding brides for Richard and Arthur though.

"Which brides for the twins?" she asked.

"Cultural and pretty ones," said Henry VIII thoughtfully.

"Educated?"

"Of course! I won't accept dumb daughters-in-law!"

"I've been looking at other Princesses myself, and I personally went to Navarre two years ago. I agree with your idea of having an alliance with Navarre. The King is pleasant and Navarre is a peaceful and prosperous country. His daughters are quite attractive, and I think his youngest daughter, Princess Blanche is well-suited for one of the twins. Both boys are energetic and love sports (which is good), but with an educated wife, maybe one of them would settle down and learn more. The married twin might turn out to be a conqueror too."

"Very well! Princess Blanche it is!"

"How about the Danish Princess?"

"Christian III of Denmark had sent these portraits of his daughters."

"He has quite a number of them."

"Ah yes. Five of them are his daughters and three are his brother's daughters. He's really interested in the alliance with England."

"Yes. Perhaps we should go and see them for ourselves?"

"Unfortunately, I can't go. State matters."

"Of course. Would you like me to go in your place?"

"That will be a wonderful idea! I'll tell the King at once!"

Catherine smiled.

A trip to Denmark would do her well.

She might get over her loss of Princess Margaret.

She bade goodnight to Henry VIII and went to her own chambers. She entered the nursery on her way to her rooms. Catherine wanted to see her children before they all marry and grow up. They won't stay young and innocent forever.

It was more quiet than usual.

It felt like all the girls knew their fates.

Princesses Mary and Isabella sat quietly by the window, reading books. Harry was with them, also reading a book. The twins (Richard and Arthur) played with their toy soldiers, surprisingly silent. They were normally the noisy ones. William sat near them, playing with his own toy soldier (a larger version of Richard and Arthur's toy soldiers) . Elizabeth and Joanna were talking to each other softly while playing with their dolls.

Princess Margaret would normally be in there.

Catherine knew that even Harry would leave her one day.

He would soon move to Ludlow Castle in Wales.

That would be after he married Archduchess Catharina when he's fifteen or sixteen.

_All my daughters are engaged,_ Catherine thought. _Apart from Joanna._

Little Joanna hadn't appeared in Henry VIII's political plans just yet.

Catherine had a feeling that Joanna will marry a French Prince, most likely the Duke of Orleans. She didn't want her daughter to marry a second son while her other daughters marry the first sons of monarchs (with the exception of Elizabeth who will marry the future Holy Roman Emperor). Catherine hoped all her sons will marry well too. The match between Harry and Archduchess Catharina would bring Antwerp and Noyon to England. That would benefit the country. Hopefully her other sons will bring good benefits to England.

The Duke of Orleans sat near Joanna.

Catherine noticed Joanna's eyes shone when he sat down.

A future love match.

Catherine wondered how Matilda and Victoire were faring in Italy. She prayed that Matilda would behave herself abroad.

Beatriz squealed as she fell at Catherine's feet.

"Steady now," said Catherine, picking her up.

"Our apologies, Your Majesty," said her governess, red in the face.

"It's alright," laughed Catherine.

She bounced Beatriz up and down.

Beatriz laughed happily.

The governess and nursery maids stared at Catherine, surprised. Not many Queen consorts would accept their husbands' bastards, but for the ones that did, they would accept them coldly. Playing with the bastards is rarely done. Catherine was the only Queen of England talked about (by the people and the nobles) that would play willingly with Henry VIII's acknowledged bastards and spend time with them as if they were her own children.

"Please leave us," Catherine instructed.

"Lady Beatriz, Your Majesty?" said the governess uncertainly.

"I'd like to be alone with the children," Catherine decided.

The governess curtsied and left.

Catherine stared into Beatriz's eyes.

"It's not your fault you're born illegitimate," she said quietly. "There will be whispers and rumours about you. Pray to God you aren't like Matilda Tudor. Let's hope you have a good marriage and plenty of children when you're older, little Beatriz."

* * *

**What do you think? :) Please review! Any ideas I can use for the next few chapters? All thoughts and ideas welcomed! :)**


	12. Chapter XII

Chapter XII

**April, 1524**

Catherine set off to Denmark to inspect the daughters and nieces of Christian III to find a worthy consort and future Duchess of York.

She knew that Princess Mary will leave for Spain the very next year.

The Danish royal family met her in Copenhagen.

"Queen Katherina!" said Christian III warmly.

"King Christian III," said Catherine pleasantly.

"I'm pleased you can come to Denmark to see my children! May I present my wife? Anna of Bohemia, the daughter of Jens II of Bohemia. Anna, this is Katherina of Aragon, the wife and Queen of Henerik VIII of England. She had decided to see our children."

"A pleasure to see you, Queen Anne."

"Now, would you please come with me?"

"Of course."

"The children are in the palace with their governesses and tutors."

"How old are they?"

"Well, there's quite a variety of ages."

"I'm sure you understand your daughter can't marry the Prince of Wales?"

"Yes. He's betrothed to an Archduchess of Austria."

"Yes. Archduchess Catharina."

"So many Princesses named Katherina! Even one of my nieces are named Katherina! Come! I'm sure one of the Danish Princesses suit your liking! Would you like to rest a while, or see them at once? Are you staying for long? I apologise for the questions, but the King of England isn't specific about your stay in Denmark. Of course, we prepared chambers for you, and you're welcomed to stay as long as you like. I'm confident that you'll stay at least a week to inspect the Princesses? If one of them do get betrothed to an English Prince, what position will she get in Court?"

"Most likely the Duchess of York and the third lady in Court."

"After you and the Princess of Wales?"

"In family circumstances, she'll be the fourth lady. Henry and I go by the order of the birth, with Mary first and Joanna last."

"I understand."

Christian III seemed satisfied with the title and position.

He took Catherine inside the palace.

Queen Anna followed them sullenly.

Her marriage with Christian III was quite unsatisfactory.

She was the second wife (his first wife was Elisabeth of Hungary) and the mother of the Crown Prince of Denmark. Christian III had five daughters with Elisabeth of Hungary and another seven with Anna (three sons, four daughters). It would be a stronger alliance if one of the Crown Prince's full sisters marry Richard, but one of Christian III's daughters with Elisabeth are closer to the Danish Throne. Catherine knew she would decide on skill and ability.

Lined up at the door were the Princesses of Denmark.

Nine were Christian III's and the rest were his brothers' daughters.

"Princesses," said Christian III happily. "This is Queen Katherina of England. She's here to choose a wife for her second son, the Duke of York. It'll be one of you girls. I want you to all act as natural as possible. Do you understand? Now, Katherina. These are Christa, Elenor, Jonna, Margarethe, Ulrika, Elsbeth, Frederike, Alexandrine, Isobel, Catharina, Luise, Anna, Jutta and Magdolene."

Each Princess curtsied prettily.

Christian III had five nieces.

Catherine understood at once that they were given Danish names.

She would have to translate them herself to English.

It'll be better for a Danish Princess with an English name rather than a pure Danish one.

_Christina, Eleanor,_ Catherine thought. _Joanna and Margaret. I suppose Ulrika will have to cope with her_

_name. There'll be no translation for her. Elisabeth, Frederica, Alexandra, Isabel, Katherine, Louise, Anne, Judith and Magdalena. They'll have to do._

She looked at them.

Ulrika, Judith and Magdalena won't be in the running.

The three of them have foreign names. Too foreign to translate well.

Catherine eyed Frederica and Alexandra. Both were quite pretty, but their names would sound quite foreign to the English tongue.

Even their English translated names.

That left Princesses Christina, Eleanor, Joanna, Margaret, Elisabeth, Isabel, Katherine, Louise and Anne in the running for the position as Duchess of York.

Catherine smiled to herself.

She had high expectations of those Danish Princesses.

They'll be observed at all times.

Catherine wanted a perfect, witty, beautiful and intelligent Princess.

"I'll stay for a week," Catherine told Christian III.

"A week?" he said, surprised.

"Yes. I'll decide on my future daughter-in-law and tell you the answer at the end. There's no need to worry. I'll help you find good husbands for all of them after one of your daughters marry the Duke of York, to prove that England's a good ally to Denmark. For now, I'll recommend an alliance with Spain between one of your sons and a Spanish Infanta. Portugal's quite prosperous too. However, many members of my extended family are Portuguese and Spanish! As a warning, if you make a treaty with France, you'll lose the English support. I'm firm about that."

"I understand. Your husband conquered parts of France."

"Good."

"Is there anything else?"

"Not at the moment, Christian III."

Christian III didn't look as happy as he was before.

* * *

During the rest of the week, Catherine watched the Danish Princesses at their lessons and thought about them as the Duchess of York.

Her favourites were Christina and Louise.

Both were beautiful, talented, witty and kind-hearted.

They were both the same age too.

Catherine soon made a decision and went to Christian III and Anna. She wanted to bring the Danish Princess back to England without wasting anymore time. The dowry would have to be decided, but she was certain it could be arranged easily.

"Who did you choose?" said Christian III at once.

"Princess Christina," Catherine answered.

Anna scowled, but said nothing.

Catherine suspected she had hoped one of her daughters to marry her son.

Unfortunately, none of them are particularly worthy.

"Christina," murmured Christian III. "What about the dowry?"

"That I came to discuss," said Catherine calmly.

"What are your terms?"

"I wish to take Princess Christina back with me to England. I know she is quite young. Ten or eleven, I believe? If you consent to me taking the Princess to England now, I'll lower the dowry down quite a bit to your advantage. It is my wish for the Duke of York to familiarise himself with his future bride. Once she's in our care, we will keep our word of honour and treat the Princess as if she's a member of our family, even if she hadn't married the Duke of York yet."

"How low?"

"Originally, the dowry was planned to be a thousand florins, but if you allow me to take the Princess

with me to England, I can lower it to nine hundred florins. As for the terms, I propose that Denmark comes to England's aid for defense, not attack and England goes to Denmark's aid for the same reasons. What do you think, My Lord of Denmark?"

"You should've been a King, Katherina!"

Catherine laughed.

Henry VIII won't be particularly pleased at the lowered dowry, but at least the Danish would keep their end to the bargain once Christina's in his care.

The dowry was paid, and Catherine sent a letter to the King of England.

In a matter of minutes, the proxy ceremony was done.

Christina was now the proxy Duchess of York.

Catherine eyed Louise.

She had a plan in her mind.

"Princess Louise is a pleasant child," Catherine said to Christian III. "Same age as Princess Christina, I assume? Children are fragile beings and can die any day. I propose Princess Louise as Christina's replacement if she happens to die before the marriage is consummated or she dies before a child is conceived. I would like the Anglo-Danish alliance to go ahead. If Princess Christina does live, I'll arrange a good marriage for Princess Louise, if you wish. If you'd like, I'll arrange one between Princess Louise and an English royal or nobleman."

"An English royal please," decided Christian III.

It had also been decided that Princess Louise will go with her to England.

The dowry would be paid by Catherine herself.

Christian III was certain that he made the right decision to have an alliance with England. He even liked Catherine as a Queen and negotiator.

He respected her.

He felt a pang of regret that he didn't marry Catherine.

Christian III knew that he had a chance to, but he turned her down for Elisabeth of Hungary. Catherine had clearly proved her fertility, and Elisabeth died in childbirth. He would've been wiser if he married her instead of the Hungarian Princess.

"Look after my girls," said Christian III quietly.

"I will," Catherine promised.

Christian III smiled at her.

He knew she'll take good care of the Danish Princesses.

Anna said nothing the whole time.

Catherine prepared to leave back to England.

Princesses Christina and Louise were informed of their journey to England, and their bags were packed by the maids and servants.

Louise seemed excited.

Christina went to pray for a safe journey.

Catherine was told that Christina was a zealous Catholic.

Catherine was pleased.

The Danish Princesses might make a good impression of Catholicism prayers in the English Court, and that might change Richard from a playful, sporty son into a pious, thoughtful man. Henry VIII won't be happy, but she would.

They boarded the carriages.

"I'll visit a little later," promised Christian III.

Catherine nodded.

Christina and Louise waved goodbye to their Danish family.

They'll soon be a part of the English royal family.

"Are you looking forward to marry the Duke of York?" asked Catherine.

"It's God's wishes for me to marry, Your Majesty," said Christina simply.

"What do you think about going to England?"

"A journey God wants me to take on Earth. I had wanted to go into a convent and become God's bride,

but it is my Earthly father's wish for me to remain a desirable bride for the good of Denmark. I have no choice but to obey."

"Ah! A pious Catholic!"

"Yes, Your Majesty. It is God's wish for me to enter matrimony and have children."

"Marriage, yes, but not children at your age!"

"It is God's will that I marry the Duke of York and beget his children for the good of the English and Danish succession lines."

Catherine looked at her curiously.

She had never met such a religious, young girl before!

She turned to Louise.

"You are cousins with Christina, are you not?" she inquired.

"I am, Your Majesty," replied Louise.

"Do you two spend time together?"

"We have our lessons together with others around the same age. We aren't that close in interests. I don't think we have a common interest either. Since Christina is marrying the Duke of York, who will I marry? Will I marry a Prince too? Will I have to pay homage to Christina when she becomes Queen of England when her husband succeeds as King of England? Will my husband be a young man around my age, or an older man?"

"A lot of questions, Louise!"

"My Lady Mother mentioned that too."

"Well, you'll have to give way to Christina in the order of precedence, and her husband won't be the King of England. His elder brother will. You will most likely marry an English nobleman with major royal blood in his veins."

"Why not a Prince?"

"I don't think there's enough English Princes!"

Louise looked a little put out.

Catherine felt sorry for her.

It'll be embarrassing for her to marry an English nobleman.

"I'll find you an English Prince," Catherine swore to Louise. "Now look happier! You and Christina will be in England in a matter of a couple of hours!"

English citizens cheered when they saw Catherine and the Danish Princesses arrive on English land on horseback instead of in a carriage.

They had been told of a Danish bride for the Duke of York earlier on.

Christina smiled at the people and waved.

They waved happily back.

Henry VIII had sent his cousin, Henry Courtenay, the 1st Earl of Devon (son of his aunt, Catherine of York) to welcome the Danish Princesses to Greenwich Palace. The royal children had been already sent there for the upcoming marriage. Richard had been told he was to be a husband, but he shrugged it aside, being only a boy of eleven.

He knew that his wife-to-be was a pious and religious young girl.

Richard was mildly irritated.

Why was he to be married (and to a religious girl of his parents' choice!) when none of his full siblings were married?! Mary wasn't even married yet and she's older! Are his parents doing this on purpose to separate him from Arthur?

Richard promised himself he will never abandon Arthur for anything.

Arthur was lucky he won't be a husband.

Just yet.

Catherine arrived at the palace with the Danish Princesses.

Richard eyed them suspiciously.

He knew that one of them would be his wife. He was well aware that at the moment, he was second-in-

line for the Throne. If Harry dies, he will be the new Prince of Wales.

Harry was healthy and didn't seem to die.

_He's still the heir,_ thought Richard. _But why can't I choose my own wife?!_

"Richard," said Catherine, kissing him on the cheek.

"My Lady Mother," said Richard politely. "It's a pleasure to see you. I hope you had a pleasant journey to and from Denmark? Nothing much had occurred in England during your trip to Denmark. Only a reminder from the Spanish ambassador."

Catherine nodded.

She stepped back.

"These are Princesses Christina and Louise," she introduced.

The Danish Princesses curtsied.

Catherine's daughters curtsied back.

All of them were there except for Princess Margaret.

Christina put on a brave and pious face.

Inside her was constant fear. She was scared of what her new family would think of her. She was terrified her future husband would hate and abandon her. What if she has no sons? Will he acknowledge his bastards and somehow legitimise them? Christina had desperately wanted to be an Abbess or nun in a convent in Denmark. She believed greatly in Catholicism, and her greatest desire was to be the bride of Christ, but knew it was His wish for her not to be his bride, but the bride of the Duke of York to secure an alliance between Denmark and England.

There were smiles on the faces of Catherine's daughters.

Princess Mary stepped forward.

"Welcome to Greenwich Palace," she said to her in Danish. "I hope you'll like your chambers that have been made for you."

Christina almost sighed with relief.

Her future sister-in-law seemed so friendly!

Pity Princess Mary will have to leave for Spain next year…

She glanced at Princess Mary's younger sisters.

She was aware that Princess Margaret wasn't there.

"No need to be afraid," said Princess Mary gently (in Danish). "You'll love England! You'll be treated well by everyone. The people will love you."

Christina couldn't hold back the tears.

They streamed down her cheeks.

Richard was touched, and guilt struck his heart.

Christina was his own age! She had just left Denmark and must be homesick! She might be devout on the outside, but inside, she was just a young, terrified, little girl that was brought from her home onto foreign soil to marry a complete stranger!

He felt guilty for not bothering to learn Danish.

They might have to communicate through Latin or French.

He was determined to master Danish for Christina's sake.

"Don't cry," said Princess Mary, patting Christina on the shoulder.

Catherine watched them.

Was it a mistake to bring her to England when she's so young?

She remembered when she set foot in England.

"Prepare some ale," Catherine said to a maid. "And set it in the private chambers. Take your time. I don't think we'll drink it straight away."

The maid curtsied and left for the kitchens.

"Come," Catherine said softly to Christina. "Let's go and see your chambers."

Princess Mary and Isabella talked to Louise as they went to Christina's chambers.

Richard stopped Catherine.

"Mother," he said quietly. "May I?"

Catherine stepped aside and allowed Richard to take Christina gently by the arm and leading her

towards Princess Mary, Isabella and Louise. She was pleased to see Richard making an effort to make the best out of his arranged match. She noticed that Arthur talked more with William now that Richard is occupied with Christina.

She wondered how Arthur will react with Blanche of Navarre.

By the end of the walk, Christina had stopped crying.

She even looked a great deal happier.

Catherine summoned Princess Catherine of York, the Dowager Countess of Devon to the Palace, and she arrived in a matter of minutes.

"Your Majesty," said the Dowager Countess, curtseying.

"Please!" laughed Catherine. "Don't call me that!"

"You are the Queen."

"You are the daughter of the Yorkist King of England."

"My uncle was defeated by your late father-in-law."

"Princess Catherine-"

"I'm only a Dowager Countess, Your Majesty."

"You're a Princess since birth, and I shall continue addressing you as such. I summoned you here for a favour. I must return to my husband at once, but the children had only arrived here. I want you to look after and keep an eye on them, as well as the Danish Princesses. It'll be good for Harry to see your children as well. Maybe he'll learn a couple of things from him that'll affect him in the future. Perhaps your son will be good friends with my son. I heard that Henry VII viewed you and your sisters with suspicion. He didn't even give you an annuity a Princess receives!"

The Dowager Countess was silent.

She was fond of Catherine, but this?!

Looking after the royal children is an honour usually taken by Mary!

"You can trust me," said the Dowager Countess steadily. "I'll look after your children as if they are my own. I'll make sure nothing happens to them."

* * *

**Please review! I'm planning to write another Tudor fanfiction around Princess Mary Tudor, so who do you think will be better for her? Duke Philip of Bavaria or Infante Luis of Portugal? **


	13. Chapter XIII

Chapter XIII

**June, 1525**

Wedding bells were ringing all over London. Archduke Charles had come to England himself to marry their Princess Mary.

Catherine was delighted.

Harry would formally marry Archduchess Catharina in a couple months' time.

Catherine knew that after the wedding, she'll lose not one, but _two_ daughters.

It had been decided earlier on, that a few days after Princess Mary's marriage, she'll depart for Spain with Archduke Charles and Isabella. Isabella will separate from them when she reaches the border. She'll go with the Portuguese officials for her own marriage with John, the Prince of Portugal. If Isabella doesn't turn up, the alliance will crumble.

Catherine sighed sadly.

Her daughters are leaving her already.

Princess Margaret gone…

Now it's Princesses Mary and Isabella's turns.

Soon, it'll be Elizabeth and Joanna leaving for their husbands' kingdoms.

At least her sons will stay in England.

Catherine had a nasty feeling her sons won't stay in England for long.

Harry will leave for Ludlow Castle straight after his marriage.

Soon, her other sons will most likely go to war.

Princess Mary twirled around in front of the mirror.

She wore a white open, square-necked dress with trumpet sleeves. The turned-back cuffs lined with fur were grey. The forepart of the dress and the undersleeves were light grey, and were patterned. Her dress was lined with silver and her neckline was decorated with small pearls. Her lustrous auburn hair was left unbound was weaved through a silver circlet studded with Diamonds. Contrasting with all the white and silver, Princess Mary wore a Ruby necklace, in which the Ruby was lined in gold. The necklace was a family heirloom of the Spanish royal family. It was passed down from the Aragonese side of the family, from each King to their consort.

Ferdinand II gave it to Isabella I, and after she died, to Joanna I.

In turn, Joanna I handed it to her oldest son, Charles, the Duke of Burgundy.

Catherine knew she'll never inherit the necklace.

At least her daughter will.

"I'll be the Princess of Asturias, mother!" said Princess Mary excitedly. "I'll soon rule with my husband over your home country! Are you happy for me, mother? I'll also be Duchess of Burgundy and an Archduchess of Austria!"

"With numerous other titles," Catherine reminded her.

Even though he's only the heir, Charles is already quite wealthy and powerful.

"I'll be Princess of Asturias," said Princess Mary, counting her fingers. "Duchess of Burgundy, and along with them, Duchess of Luxemburg, Duchess of Brabant, Duchess of Guelders, Duchess of Limburg, Duchess of Lothier, Margravine of Namur, Countess Palatine of Burgundy, Countess of Artois, Countess of Charolais, Countess of Flanders, Countess of Hainault, Countess of Zeeland, Countess of Holland and Countess of Zutphen. Oh, and Archduchess of Austria!"

Catherine couldn't help, but admire the position her daughter will be in.

She thought of her second youngest daughter, Elizabeth.

Elizabeth will marry well when she's older.

The Spaniards had agreed for Archduke Ferdinand to marry Elizabeth.

So far, they had kept their promise.

Archduke Ferdinand will inherit from his paternal grandfather.

The Holy Roman Emperor, Maximilian I.

"Your Majesty," said a bishop, bowing. "Your Highness. His Royal Highness, the Duke of Burgundy had arrived in the great hall."

_Out of all titles,_ thought Catherine. _Charles decided to use his father's title. Why not the Castilian one to_

_prove that he's the son of the Queen of Castile? He is five years older than my Mary. I'm sure he can wait a year before he becomes a father._

She hoped he won't use that title in the ceremony.

"I'll meet him," she decided.

She went to the great hall to meet her favourite nephew.

"My dear aunt," said Archduke Charles with a bow. "Such a pleasure to see you in England. I thought it was better to be married in person."

"Is that all?" said Catherine, with a smile.

"And to see you, of course."

"Mary is waiting for you in her chambers."

"Of course. I'll see her at the altar in our wedding ceremony."

"What will your title be?"

"I'm sorry?"

"The title the bishop will address you in the ceremony."

"Oh, the Duke of Burgundy and Prince of Asturias. I want all to know that I rule a large portion of the Burgundian inheritance and Heir to Castile and Aragon. Once your Maria marries me, she'll instantly become the Duchess consort of Burgundy and Princess of Asturias. I thought of adding Archduke of Austria to the titles, but I decided not to. My cousin, Archduchess Catharina of Austria will be using that title, and people might think we're both from Austria."

"I understand. I suppose we shall call her Maria from now on."

"She'll always be Mary to you."

Catherine was touched.

Archduke Charles kissed her hand and departed.

Henry VIII met Catherine in the throne room.

Two smaller thrones were placed next to the large ones, the one next to Henry VIII's throne only smaller by an inch. Catherine's heart was pounding.

The bishop entered.

Behind him was Archduke Charles and a small Spanish retinue.

Archduke Charles stood in front of the bishop.

A few minutes later, Princess Mary entered with her English train of ladies.

The vows were exchanged quietly.

Archduke Charles stared deeply into Princess Mary's eyes.

They were so sparkly…

He kissed her.

The ceremony was over.

Princess Mary was now the Duchess of Burgundy and Princess of Asturias.

Catherine glanced at her remaining children. Harry and Catharina will be married next, and Richard and Christina most likely next. She had no idea when Princess Margaret will be married to the Duke of Rothesay since she was already in Scotland.

She was certain Charles and Mary will let her know.

Archduke Charles and Princess Mary sat on the smaller thrones.

That symbolised the Anglo-Spanish alliance.

The wedding feast was celebrated with great pomp and celebration. Archduke Charles had no interest in celebrations (even for his wedding), but forced himself to enjoy the feast for the sake of his newly wedded wife. It would also do him some good to please his English in-laws to maintain peace for the alliance between England and Spain.

To the horror of English courtiers, the Archduke wore black that day.

It was said to be a bad omen.

"Any plans about France?" Archduke Charles asked Henry VIII.

"Not really," said Henry VIII carelessly.

"There's been word that Francis I is planning to retake his lands."

"Oh really? That would be an unwise move. His oldest daughters and the Duke of Orleans are in my

care, and it would be wrong for him to work against me. I've arranged marriages for the two girls. For my benefit, of course. They're betrothed to the two sons of the Duke of Suffolk. I elevated his status just to stop a could-be misalliance."

"Your nephews?"

"Yes. The French Princesses will have nothing to complain about."

"And the Duke of Orleans?"

"What about him?"

"Are you planning to have her married to Princess Frances or Princess Eleanor of Suffolk? Or perhaps to a wealthy noblewoman?"

"Why does this concern you?"

"I want French lands just as much as you."

Henry VIII stared at his new son-in-law with admiration.

"I suppose we can attack France from both sides," he said finally.

"France will be divided amongst us," agreed Archduke Charles.

"And will be a kingdom no more."

"The land will be English and Spanish."

"North for England, South for Spain."

"Of course. When do you think we should attack France? France is already on its knees, and won't have enough money to have a decent army to defend itself. Francis I will soon be a pretender King, or at the most, the Duke consort of Brittany. Even if we split France between us, I think we should allow him-or at least his wife-keep the duchy of Brittany. What if we conquer France instead? Who'll take the title of King of France? What'll happen?"

"My guess is that you'll want it?"

"Well, I do have a claim to the crown of France."

"I have a plan."

"I'm listening…"

"Once we conquer France and capture the royal family of France, I'll acknowledge you as the rightful King of France if the South of France is Spanish land. This is after I succeed as King of Spain. Once my brother becomes Holy Roman Emperor, I'll make sure he acknowledges you as well. There will be future alliances between us?"

"Definitely."

Archduke Charles glanced at Princess Mary.

She was the daughter of the powerful King of England.

He was pleased he chose her over a Portuguese Infanta.

* * *

Fourteen months had past since Archduke Charles left with Princess Mary and Isabella. Catherine had ceased to miss them greatly.

She also received news of Princess Mary's first pregnancy.

Maternal instinct overwhelmed her.

"What if she dies?" Catherine said, worried.

"She'll be fine," Henry VIII consoled her. "You had nine children without dying. Our Mary will be just like you! She'll survive her first one! What do you think about Catharina? Do you think she's pregnant? She and Harry are married, and they're the same age!"

"Let's hope she is."

"A son would be perfect."

"No matter whether it's a girl or boy, it'll still be perfect."

"Think about it! We'll be grandparents!"

"The people will love it! I wonder how Margaret is faring in Scotland."

"Didn't Mary and Charles write to you?"

"No…didn't she write to you?"

Henry VIII felt uncomfortable. He had received news from Scotland. Not from Princess Margaret, but

from Queen Margaret herself. An angry Margaret, Queen of Scots.

"You trick me, your daughter will pay!" she threatened.

He regretted giving her Princess Margaret instead of Isabella.

James IV did nothing about it.

His son, the Duke of Rothesay, had turned out to be an arrogant boy who seemed to have a loathing for the English, even though he's betrothed to an English Princess. Henry VIII hoped the most Margaret would do is to send Princess Margaret back to England.

Margaret hadn't done that so far.

Henry VIII wondered why she didn't want a French bride for her son.

The Duke of Rothesay made it clear that he doesn't want an English bride.

Henry VIII hoped fervently that his daughter would return to England.

"What is it?" said Catherine at once.

"Nothing," lied Henry VIII.

"Henry! You're hiding something from me."

"Margaret wrote to me."

"Your sister?"

"Unfortunately. She informed me that she's keeping our daughter in misery and isn't treating her with the respect of an English Princess. She threatened to kill her if we send anyone to retrieve our daughter from her care. She's always a dominant woman (even when she and I were children) and I think she'll actually kill her. I'm sorry, Cate. We can't do anything to help our Margaret. She'll have to live in Scotland without our help."

"Henry! How can you say that?!"

"What can we do?"

"We have to get Margaret out of Scotland!"

"How?"

"Double alliance with Scotland."

"What can we do?"

"Tell Margaret we want a double alliance with Scotland and for her to send one of her daughters to England like how she took Margaret from us. I know you don't want to inflict harm on her, but we need our daughter safe in Scotland."

Catherine slowly nodded.

She wanted Princess Margaret safe.

Henry VIII sent a letter to Margaret.

Margaret wrote a letter back, refusing to agree with the double alliance. Margaret was shrewd, and knew his plans well.

Catherine was desperate.

She decided to travel to Scotland herself.

By nightfall, Catherine arrived in Scotland.

"Catherine," said Margaret shortly.

"Margaret!" said Catherine angrily. "Where's my daughter?!"

"I'm sorry? You left her here."

"I did no such thing! You threaten her life in letter! Where is she?!"

"She's betrothed to my son."

"WHERE IS MY DAUGHTER?!"

"Safely in a castle."

"Margaret! I'm not here to play games! I want my daughter back! If you don't give her back in half an hour, my husband will declare war and so will Joanna of Castile! Once they attack, your husband will be only a pretender King and your children will be useless in politics! Give me my daughter and your husband will keep his throne."

Margaret was silent.

Scotland was in no position to defend itself.

Its most loyal ally (France) is in ruins and other allies are unreliable. Margaret knew that if she gave up

the English Princess, Scotland will be humiliated greatly. However, if her husband loses Scotland to England and Spain, that's a different story.

"No," said Margaret stiffly.

_"No?"_ said Catherine, astounded.

"I don't care if your husband declares war."

"You want your husband to lose the Scottish throne?"

"I will not give up your daughter for humiliation to be brought upon Scotland. It's your fault you didn't give me Isabella as planned."

"Where is she?"

"I'm sorry, Catherine. Please leave."

Catherine was almost in tears.

"What's going on?"

James IV had entered Margaret's chambers.

Catherine felt a sense of relief.

Surely James IV will allow a worried mother to see her child!

Along with him was his mother, Margaret of Denmark.

"My Lord of Scotland," said Catherine politely. "My Lady of Denmark and Scotland."

"Good morning, Catherine," said Margaret of Denmark pleasantly. "I heard that you went to visit my brother, Christian III, a year ago and personally organised the dowry and expenses and convinced him to consent to allowing you to take my nieces to England. He was very impressed with you. When I heard you were coming to Scotland, I wanted to see you in person! Christian III said many great things about you, and I think he was telling the truth!"

James IV glanced at his wife, and then at Catherine.

"What's going on?" he repeated.

"I wish to see my daughter," answered Catherine.

"Your daughter?"

"Margaret of England."

"What's your daughter doing in Scotland? Did she get lost?"

"You don't know?"

"I've been ill for quite a while. Five years at least. When I'm ill, my Council rules in my name. What's your daughter doing in Scotland?"

"Your wife organised a treaty with England."

James IV looked curiously at Margaret.

"Where is the Princess?" he asked.

Margaret said nothing.

"My daughter has been here for three years," said Catherine truthfully. "She left England when she was nine. We haven't received any letter from her in three years. I just want to see her and see how she's faring in Scotland."

James IV was thoughtful.

"Let her see her child!" pleaded Margaret of Denmark.

"How old is she?" inquired James IV.

"Twelve," replied Catherine.

"Twelve?!"

"Yes. Your wife insisted on her to go to Scotland."

"Really now? I don't remember agreeing to it."

"You were probably ill."

"Yes. I think you're right. What was the clauses of the treaty?"

"Peace between England and Scotland and free trade, I think. Why?"

James IV looked suspiciously at Margaret.

"I think your daughter should return to you," James IV decided. "She's quite young. Most Princesses marry and leave when they're fifteen or sixteen, not twelve. The last time a twelve year old Princess goes to her husband's kingdom at such a young age was centuries ago! Margaret! I don't know what you were thinking, but the Princess shouldn't endure the Scottish climate at such a young age! Margaret, present the Princess to us in an hour, or there will be consequences for you. Don't look horrified, Margaret. I haven't said what I'll do with her yet."

A chill ran down Catherine's spine.

What if he keeps Princess Margaret prisoner in Scotland?

Catherine remembered another English Princess Margaret (Henry III's daughter) that married a young King of Scots. She was imprisoned too.

Margaret scowled and left.

Catherine was uncertain.

She needed to know what'll happen.

"I think an apology should be given," said James IV pleasantly.

"No!" exclaimed Catherine. "You made things better!"

"My wife can be a little domineering at times."

"Yes. I can see that."

"I think the treaty should go ahead. Apart from some minor changes of course. Once Margaret returns with her child, I think she should return to England with you. When she's fifteen, she'll come back to Scotland to marry my son. If she doesn't, I'll personally go to England with an army to collect her. I'm serious about that, Catherine. I want this alliance to go through. At least you'll have your daughter for two years before she comes back."

"Can I bring her back when she's sixteen?"

"Why sixteen?"

"Please, My Lord of Scotland."

"Allow her, James," said Margaret of Denmark sympathetically.

"Mother?" said James IV, taken back.

"A mother's love for her child is eternal lasting," explained the Queen Mother. "I think you should allow the Queen of England to have her daughter for four years before she marries your son. I would've asked for at least five years!"

James IV nodded.

"Very well," he said to Catherine. "Sixteen it is."

* * *

**Sorry for the EXTREMELY long wait, but I hope it's worth it! More reviews, higher priority on the story! :) **


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